Beyond The Rose
by katleer
Summary: A story about what happens after "Enchanted Christmas": Belle and Adam's children, how Chip Potts turns out, Fifi and Lumiere's relationship, another close encounter with death and a certain enchantress, etc . . . No strong sexual content or language, but rated M because some readers may be offended by violent images and some sexual themes. Please enjoy and comment.
1. Chapter 1: It's a Wonderful Life

Beyond the Rose

Chapter 1: It's a Wonderful Life

As Fife signaled the first notes of the first piece of the evening, Belle and Adam walked together through the glass doors to the balcony. They had been helping the servants prepare for the Christmas party all day and had not yet had much time to themselves. Earlier, Belle had told Adam that she had a surprise for him. She would have simply told him what she had to tell, but she was secretly nervous. What if Adam thought her surprise untimely? Only months ago, he was still under the enchantress's spell. With Belle's help, Adam had adjusted relatively easily to his newly regained human form. But now, even as they walked onto the balcony, Belle could sense the clumsiness of her husband's steps.

For the first few weeks following the breaking of the curse, Adam had had to rely much on the use of a walking cane. After that, he stubbornly forced himself away from it, though Belle and all the servants advised that he should not rush into things. That he should take as much time as needed to adjust to his new feet.

He had been walking with the feet of a wolf since the age of eleven and now had to become accustomed to walking with the cumbersome feet of a twenty-two year-old man. This was not an easy task, as Adam knew only too well from stumbling over nothing and falling down several flights of stairs. He dare not tell anyone of his slip-ups; he wanted no one to worry or think he was weak. He wanted to walk on his own to prove to himself that he could, and also so that he did not have to lean on Belle. She had already done more for him than anyone else ever had. Now it was his turn to return the favour.

The prince and his princess stood before the railing beneath the stars and over the beauty of God's night earth. The mountains stood in the distance before the flowing ribbon of river. Adam cradled his wife's hands in his own. Belle marveled at the warmth of his hands. They strangely seemed to be much warmer since they had shed their fur, and they were still just as gentle. Adam thought of how wonderful it was to be holding Belle's hands in his own. To him, holding her hands was the equivalent of holding the hands of an angel. To him she was an angel, and he made certain to remind her of this fact on a daily basis.

For several minutes, the couple continued staring deeply into each other's gaze. They gave silent thanks to God for having allowed them to find each other. Adam also secretly hoped the enchantress knew of her spell being broken and that she had made him a very happy man.

"Oh yeah! I almost forgot," Adam said raising a finger and then reaching his hand into the underside of his tailcoat.

Belle chuckled. Just minutes earlier he had produced, from beneath that same coat, the present they had bought for Chip Potts- a storybook. She wondered just what else he could possibly have hidden beneath that coat of his.

"It's a little something I got you just for Christmas Eve," Adam answered in reply to Belle's silent query as he placed, in her hands, a rectangular box.

With genuine curiosity, Belle carefully lifted the lid. Inside the box, she found nothing more or less than a fresh-cut pink rose.

She smiled up at Adam, knowing the exact significance of his gift; and he replied with a smile of his own, letting her know that he knew she understood what he was trying to say. A pink rose had once been the symbol of a curse that bound him, but now he was offering this very symbol to the love of his life. It was a reminder of all they had been through together. It was also a charm of hope for an even brighter future. Adam was telling his Belle that, because of her, he no longer despised those many years he had spent as a beast. It had not taken anything away from his life, for now he had all that he had ever wanted. Now he had someone to love and to love him in return. He would have lived the hell of that past curse one thousand lifetimes if, for only one of those lifetimes, Belle was there for him to hold.

Belle, with her heart thudding amorously within her, fell easily against her husband's chest. Sometimes it still amazed her that a man other than her own father could display such sweetness. At times she even found herself fearful that she would one day wake up to find out that Adam, Beast and all, had only been a dream. But now, with her head resting upon his chest, she could feel his every breath rushing into her own lungs and his warmth running through her own veins. In that moment, Adam's presence was more real than anything Belle had ever known. She could feel his gentle fingers playing with her hair and, suddenly, she knew that she could reveal to him what she had been so reluctant to reveal. He would always be ready to hear it.

"Adam," Belle said.

"Yes, my love?" Adam replied.

"Remember that surprise I told you about?"

"Yes. Of course. I've been wondering what it could possibly be all day."

Belle sighed. There was no turning back. She had to tell him. Besides, if she did not tell him now, he would figure it out anyway.

"Adam, I-I-I-"

Belle froze. Suddenly stunned. Adam now had his arms wrapped around her midriff and was rubbing the area right around her navel. He passionately pressed his lips against the curve of her neck.

"Adam- "

"You're pregnant."

Belle whirled around without even thinking and shot him with a look of bewilderment.

"Who told you?" she asked, utterly astounded.

Adam shrugged, resting his hands upon her shoulders and giving her that loving smile of his.

"No one had to tell me, Belle. You are positively glowing this evening."

Belle smiled back, chuckling inside herself. Although her husband was no genius, he had many times floored her with his clever deductions. No, he was not a genius, but he was no fool either. He knew more about her than she had ever dared to divulge to her own father. So strange that she didn't mind- she who had always prided herself on her independent nature. So strange that she would not have had it any other way.

But then Belle felt a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach. Maybe Adam was hiding his disappointment for her sake.

"I'm sorry, Adam," she felt herself saying before allowing time to sort out her worry.

Adam's smile shrank. He suddenly appeared completely taken aback. Had he done something wrong? Why did Belle appear so disheartened? He was doing everything in his power to make her feel comfortable.

"For what?" Adam finally inquired.

"I know this can't be a good time. I mean, you're just adjusting to being human again and now I tell you that you are also going to be a father. I mean, this must be happening all too soon," Belle said, finally getting all her concerns out in the open.

She turned away from him, secretly hoping he would say something to quell her anxieties. Adam smiled as he looked on his beautiful wife. She was always concerned about his well-being. This was something he had not had in his childhood. It felt good to have someone who cared for him so, but he did not wish for her to feel as though she had let him down. He wanted her to know that he cared deeply for her as well, and that her happiness was all that he wished to maintain.

"Belle," he called from behind her.

She turned to see him beaming at her with apparent sincerity.

"If this were not the right time for a child, no child of ours would now be living within you," he said. "Besides, Belle, you fell for me when I was a hideous beast and made me a man. This child is going to make me an even better man now that I am struggling to regain my balance."

Adam walked up to Belle and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, stooping to rest his chin over one of them.

Whispering soft as a rabbit's tail, into her ear, he said, "Any child of yours would be a blessing, but I am honored above all men that your child should also be mine. You are my one true love. You saved me. Never underestimate how much you mean to me."

Belle turned around to look up at his beautiful face. She could feel tender tears welling behind her eyes and, when she noticed the tear tracing Adam's cheek, she knew that he would never lie to her. Then she looked into the sapphire blades that were his eyes and realized that he couldn't.

"I love you, Adam," she said to the beat of her own heart.

"I love you, too," he said, picking her up to meld her lips against his own.

And the servants' eyes were filled with awe as they looked out the window to see their master kissing their mistress with more fervor than the world had ever dealt.


	2. Chapter 2: Kidnapped

Chapter 2: Kidnapped

"What are you staring at me for, Monsieur? You have work to do."

Adam shook himself free from the daze. He knew his efforts were futile, as he had shaken the same daze only minutes before.

"Well I would continue to work if only you would stop distracting me," he said, trying to seem serious, as the corner of his mouth crept upward to reveal his true feelings.

Belle looked up again from the book she was reading and flashed a mischievous grin. The light from the window behind her illuminated her porcelain form like a halo. The roses winding upward, just outside, embellished her beauty. No matter how hard Adam tried to keep focused on the documents before him, he found the task quite impossible.

Again he looked down at the parchment on his desk: Another request for a business loan. Suddenly, he felt a headache edging its way in. Adam sighed, standing up and backing away from his work. It was no use. He would just have to address it tomorrow.

He approached the window seat, a look of compassionate reverence absolutely taking over his entire countenance. Belle sat her book down on the space of empty cushion beside her. She smiled within and without with relished satisfaction. She had gotten the result she wanted.

Adam now stood before her and shared with her an expression of infinite tenderness. He bent down to slip one arm around Belle's shoulders and one beneath her thighs. He raised her up off the window seat and supported her against the warmth of his torso. He curled his neck so that he could passionately latch his lips around hers. She breathed her hot energy into him and he groaned in an explosion of ecstasy. Belle, feeling Adam's heart beating violently against her body, was forced to release him for air. Her chest burned pleasingly with her next few breaths.

"So this is what you do at work?" Belle began once she had enough oxygen to speak. "Romance the women who happen to be lurking around your library."

Adam pressed his lips to Belle's again.

"No," he said after he had released her, "I've had my cap set on one woman in particular."

Belle and Adam gave each other their familiar childlike grins before Adam set his wife down on her feet. She had been pregnant for three months now, but was hardly showing. Adam and Belle had been married for nearly a year and both had changed and grown very much. Each day, Adam's footing became more stable and Belle knew that what he had said before was true. This new child could not be arriving at a better time.

"Shall we go riding?" Adam asked, having to lean slightly in order to offer Belle his arm.

One thing that Belle found rather amusing was the fact that, although Adam's width had dwindled immensely from the time he was a Beast, his height was quite the same. Although Belle normally thought of herself as quite plain, Adam, with his tall, masculine form- along with the dear reverence he offered- had the power to make her believe that she was a delicate little flower. Adam, on the other hand, felt honored simply be able to walk the same ground as she.

"I think we shall," Belle replied brightly, looping her arm eagerly around his.

Belle and Adam went horseback riding into the valley. It was a gorgeous afternoon. The virgin spring grass rippled beneath the blaze of the sun. The fragrance of fresh wildflowers floated upon the breeze. The good earth was brimming with new life. A perfect coincidence.

"The last one to the bank has to do whatever the other one says!" Belle shouted playfully as she leaned forward upon Philippe's back, her hair bouncing along behind her.

"Well I hope you don't mind rubbing my back, because I could really use a back rub right now!" Adam retorted as he followed closely behind on his horse, Helene.

Belle let out a bust of laughter. Adam replied with laughter of his own as they both hastened toward the riverside. Belle beat him there and ran giddily along the bank, daring him to chase her. Momentarily, Adam dismounted his horse on the bank and playfully ran after his wife.

Clumsily he followed, thinking of the stones upon which he stumbled as nothing more than clouds. Belle flipped her head around and realized that Adam was having a hard time catching up and, thus, she slowed down. The next thing she knew, Adam was pulling her body into his own with those warm, strong arms of his. This very fact excited Adam to the point that he forgot his own clumsiness. His ankle rolled upon one of those clouds. Quickly, he took action to twist around so that his back thudded painfully upon the ground. His pain, however, was immediately healed by the feel of the woman held captive against his body.

"Adam, are you alright?" Belle asked in reply to the chopped grunt released by her husband.

"I'm just fine, dear," he replied. "But how about that back rub?"

"What are you talking about?" Belle chortled, "I'm the one who beat you?"

"Well, yes," Adam teased, "But I've got you now. In order for me to release you, you have to do as I say."

"Well, alright," Belle replied as Adam turned her body around so that her face looked into his own. "So it's a backrub you want?"

"No," Adam replied. "I'm afraid I've already changed my mind."

"Oh really," Belle said, slyly raising an eyebrow. "What must I do now, Master?"

"You must tell me what you want," he replied. "And I won't let you go until you do so."

"Well," Belle teased. "That's more like it. But it would be much too difficult to describe. What if I just guided you?"

"I think I can accept that."

Belle tugged at his shoulders to motion that she wanted to swap places. Then, with Adam's warm body covering her own, she clasped her hands around his wrists. Adam struggled to breathe. He felt his body already becoming weak with arousal. Belle's touch tended to have that effect on him, and Belle felt her own libido wreaking havoc upon her gentle thoughts as she noted this.

She pulled Adam's hands upward to rest them on her shoulders and then let go. She wanted Adam to thrill her, as she knew he could, with his own genius. Carefully, Adam pulled down his wife's sleeves so that her elegant, porcelain shoulders were exposed. He rubbed them with tender force and knew that he was making Belle feel good as she writhed and groaned pleasingly beneath his touch. He firmly kneaded the bare part of her chest with his thumbs. He loved the feel of her silken flesh beneath his hands, but he knew he was not yet touching her most delicate flesh.

He smoothed his hands gently over Belle's exposed cleavage and relished in another of her unbridled groans before reaching inside of her blouse. With his tender caress, Adam honored the breasts that would soon nurture his child. Belle felt the pure affection flowing from his fingertips; and, as she released another groan, she felt tears trickle from the corners of her eyes. Adam immediately noticed.

"Belle, what's the matter?" he asked, "Should I stop?"

"No! No! Don't stop!" Belle cried. "I want to savour your touch! Your loving touch! The emotion that it brings is unbelievable. I want to believe it, though no one else would be able to handle this truth!"

Adam cradled her breasts in his palms, her flesh gold to his desires. It was not simply a physical sensation he craved. No. In his hands, he held a gift God above granted to all the beautiful women of the earth. He wanted deeply to bestow his respect upon the center of life he so admired. And, so that he could make certain he did just that, he unbuttoned Belle's blouse down to her midriff. Belle cooperated eagerly as he helped her arms out of her sleeves. Then he loosened her corset so that he could easily tug it downward. Slowly, more of her chest was revealed until her breasts were completely bared. They sat there, offering themselves to him, pleading with their radiance. Belle sighed with gratitude as Adam bestowed his kiss upon their every inch.

After he had coated her with his kisses, he lay on his back and pulled Belle, face up, on top of him so that he could wrap his arms around her shoulders and conceal her breasts with his palms. Their warmth emanated throughout his being as her heart thudded against his hand. Belle closed her eyes, wishing to hold onto this moment forever. Adam stared up into the heavens, but soon found his eyes edging shut as well. Beneath the sultry breath of the afternoon sun and the mercy of the clouds, the rush of the nearby waterfall lulled the young couple to sleep.

"ADAM!"

Prince Adam was jolted awake by the sound of his wife's scream.

"BELLE?" he cried out, realizing that she was no longer laying with him.

Yards away he could hear the panicked neighs of Helene and Philippe. He jumped up, feeling a stab of fright hit his chest. He looked around him, his eyes blurred from the dark and the blow of intense alarm.

"BELLE, WHERE ARE YOU?"

Another scream was returned his way and, looking in it's direction, Adam finally saw the shape of human silhouettes upon two horses- one on one and two on the other.

"BELLE!"

Adam began running with all the force he could muster. Although he was running against men on horseback, and his steps were choppy, The adrenaline rushing heavily into his legs allowed him to catch up to one of the horses- the one with one person- a very thick man- sitting on its saddle. Looking forward to the other horse running before it, he could see Belle sitting behind another man- her arms bound to her sides. Adam attempted to push the thick man from his horse, but instead found himself slowed by a sudden blow to the gut. Although he was slowed, his determination did not allow him to stop running as he clutched at the seeping wound.

He followed the horsemen into the forest, his will dodging obstacles without any additional effort. He grunted with pain as he struggled to keep running. His legs were growing tired. His skin poured hot sweat through his clothing. His lungs burned from exhaustion of their own. He could feel the gash in his gut pouring out his precious life force. But this was not enough to stop him. Belle was in danger and he was going to do all he could do to save her.

But then, suddenly, he realized that the horses had disappeared from his view. He was now running after no one. He listened desperately for the slightest sign of movement. Too bad it instead found him.

"AAAAAAOOOOW!" he cried in a throe of utter pain.

A shot had stabbed him straight through the arm, ripping through every layer of tissue. He tried to move so that whoever had shot him could not easily target him again, but found himself in even more pain as he attempted to move his arm. He looked down to find the full horror of his situation. An arrow was pinning his arm to a tree. He was about to reach over to pull it out when he felt a searing pain passing through his other arm. He knew he was pinned. Was he just going to die there and allow those men to do whatever they were going to do with Belle? No. Not if he could help it.

"UGGGGHHHH!" he groaned in an attempt to pull himself free.

What he was going to do after he was free, now with his torn extremities, he did not know.

"UGGGGHHH!"

He tried again, although he was sure his efforts were futile. He couldn't just do nothing.

Suddenly, he froze. He felt a hand upon his forehead. With staggering energy, he lifted his head. The strange hand left his forehead, but the owner of the hand remained standing before him. Adam could not discern the face, but he could tell by the shape of the silhouette that it was a woman in his presence.

"Belle?" he said hopefully as he, in his delirium, continued trying to break free.

The figure didn't answer. Still, Adam's eyes never left her silhouette as the surrounding forest faded into black.


	3. Chapter 3: Practical Magic

Chapter 3: Practical Magic

Adam opened his eyes and allowed his vision to adjust to his surroundings. Where was he and how long had he been out? He didn't remember dreaming at all. The last thing he could remember was the shadow of a woman, the touch of a hand, darkness.

He knew he was lying upon a slightly lumpy mattress, sheltered beneath slightly dusted blankets. As he looked around the room, he found that he was surrounded by stone and mortar walls, a dirt floor, and thatch ceiling. Within the walls, small four-paned windows were embedded. In the near distance he could see a rough plank door. The air was filled with an herbal aroma and, hearing a gurgling sound behind him, he sat up, a deep pinch striking his abdomen as he flexed his muscles and turned his head to see an old-fashioned stove with a steaming pot held by the flame of one of its burners.

Who had brought him here? Had it been that woman he saw just before blacking out in the forest? Who was she and how had she found him? Right now, he appeared to be alone. None of this truly mattered. He needed to get out of this place and find Belle.

Stretching his tired legs, Adam stood up out of the bed. His bones shivered from the cold of his toes making direct contact with the ground. But wait, why did the rest of his body feel so cold? He looked down and blushed when he realized why. Where were his clothes?

"Oh, good! I'm glad you've finally awakened, Adam," he heard a warm voice call from behind him.

Adam jumped with such a start, as though he had been prodded with a hot poker, and flew back beneath the covers to conceal himself.

The one who had spoken now stood before him with a broad grin across her face. She was a young maiden clothed in attire that hearkened back to the fashion of medieval times. She had long, silky dirty-blonde hair, an elegantly curved face and- no, it couldn't be- violet eyes!

"It- it- it- it's YOU!" Adam exclaimed, appearing absolutely stunned.

The maiden bowed her head.

"I am so glad you remember me, Adam. It certainly has been a long time," she said with a smile in her voice.

How could he ever forget her? She who had had the greatest impact upon the course of his life. She who had influenced who he was today. She hadn't changed since he last saw her. She was still immensely beautiful. The only difference was the fact that she didn't appear or sound quite so threatening. The Enchantress!

Adam chuckled, still embarrassed, knowing she had seen him naked, "How could I ever forget you?"

The Enchantress replied with a chuckle of her own, "Well, I do have to admit that it would be quite difficult to forget me. On the other hand, you have changed so much that I hardly recognize you."

"Then how can you be sure it's me? I mean, you placed that curse on me-"

"Prince Adam de Beaumont," the Enchantress interrupted. "Do you really think that I would waste my precious magic on a hopeless cause?"

"Huh?"

Adam sunk back deeper into his pillow. Now he was completely perplexed. Had she really known, all along, that he would break her curse? The whole time? Now, even Adam himself would admit that he was a rather troubled child. How could this Enchantress, a complete stranger at the time of his fatal encounter with her, have possibly known that he would change his ways?

"You see, Adam," the Enchantress explained, reading the confusion in the Prince's face. "I had been watching you for quite some time before our meeting. I had seen you turn from a wonderfully curious child to a very angry one indeed. You were hurting from all you had been through. Still, I sensed something greater in you than could ever imagine.

"I lied to you, Adam, when I said there was no love in your heart. Actually, I sensed more love in your heart than I have sensed in most other human beings. The truth is that your love was clouded with pain. I wanted to help you, not hurt you.

"The enchantment I placed upon you was a very powerful one, as I'm sure you are well aware. The Chimera's Curse. It was once a popular spell among the darkest of witches, for most victims of the spell end up going mad and terminating their own life. Although I have never associated with evil, I have delved into the knowledge of all types of magic- light and dark. I have always felt it necessary to know both sides. There can truly be no good without evil. My clan, however, has never been very keen on my interest in the dark arts, and that is why I live alone."

"But," began Adam, now more perplexed than ever, "If you were trying to help me, why did you choose to use black magic on me? Couldn't you have used a less severe spell?"

The Enchantress smiled and nodded.

"I would have, but I don't think a weaker spell would have been as effective," The Enchantress continued and Adam fidgeted nervously as she sat down at the foot of the bed. "Besides, I knew fully well that you could survive it. Your soul, although once clouded with negative energy, has always been an exceptionally strong one. In your confusion you have done many bad things, but you have always had a good heart. How long did it take for you to break the spell?"

"Actually," Adam replied, "I'm not the one who should be credited with breaking it; it was the love of the most beautiful woman in world that saved me. My Belle."

He paused.

"She told me she loved me just as the final rose petal began to fall."

The Enchantress's eyes grew large. Not simply from shock. She now looked upon her guest as though she were staring at a ghost.

"What is it?" Adam asked, taken aback by her expression.

"It- it- it took you that long to break the spell? You lived like that for ten years? Right up to the very last minute- when- right before you would have been bound for the rest of your life?"

"Well, yes."

The Enchantress's expression grew even more ghastly as a thought passed as a stunned whisper through her mind: _Maybe I even underestimated the power of his soul. What is he, really? Can he truly be just human?_

Adam was now becoming frightened by the magical maiden's expression. Was there something wrong with him?

"What's the matter?" he finally asked after a moment of unbearable silence.

"Oh, nothing," the Enchantress quickly replied, forcing her face into a neutral expression. "It's just that you would not have survived beyond seven years of the curse if your soul were not extraordinary in its strength. You would have not been able to handle it. I knew of your hidden goodness. In this world, people with such goodness are rare. With you being a person of influence, I knew that your true nature had to be revealed. Not just for you, but for your people. They need to know that they can come to you for guidance."

Adam nodded, trying to make sense of everything the Enchantress had just said. He had never thought of himself as possessive of an exceptional soul; not even when he had seemed so sure of himself. Was it true? Was he really special in some way? Special? Special. Belle!

Adam jolted slightly, thinking he was going to stand up. That's when he remembered his body was naked beneath the covers.

"Um," he said to the Enchantress, feeling abashed.

Adam had become very modest since regaining his human form. It seemed almost inconceivable that he had once walked about his castle without a shirt. The only person with whom he felt comfortable seeing him naked was, of course, Belle; he had even been stricken with a case of nerves before revealing his full body to her.

"Where are my clothes?"

The Enchantress's cheeks suddenly reddened as she acknowledged that she was sitting at the feet of a nude man. Quickly, as though it were automatic, she leapt from the end of the bed and stood with her back facing Adam.

"Um-" she replied, her soft voice shaking like the knees of a schoolgirl with a crush, "I have them hanging up to dry. I washed them after I- after I-"

She froze, wondering if she should finish her sentence. It was almost too embarrassing. But she hadn't done anything wrong.

"After- after I bathed you."

Although she now felt pretty embarrassed because she knew that Adam knew she had seen him naked, she admitted to herself that bathing the young prince had not been a completely unpleasant experience. She had been alone for a very long time, only receiving company from the people she found lost in the woods. She had never been with a man; although she had tended to body wounds of men before, she had never seen such a perfect example of masculine beauty until she disrobed Adam. Those muscles. Those lines. The proportion of it all. Her heart swelled with pride at knowing that she had helped him to alter his personality to an equal level of beauty. He had transformed- body and soul. He had become a living work of art.

"Oh," Adam replied, knowing his face had completely turned red. "Wait. You did what?"

"I- I bathed you. You were covered with dirt and blood."

Oh yeah. That was true. Wait a second-

Adam looked down at his arms to find that he now only had two round, red marks where the Arrows had pierced through his skin. He then lifted the blankets to look down at his torso. There was no longer a gaping wound. Now, where he felt a pinching soreness, he saw nothing more than a dark pink line drawn across the ripples of his abdominals.

"How-" he asked, in wonderment, "How long have I been asleep?"

"Only two days."

"How did you tend to these wounds?"

"With some magical herbs," she replied. "Very potent ones. You were lucky you got them fresh. I happened to be picking some when I found you. Many of the herbs I use cannot be picked until after dark."

"Thank you," said Adam, all his curiosities mended. "But I really need to go. Can you please bring me my clothes?"

"Yes, but you are not leaving until you eat some herbal soup."

"But I must! I have to save my wife! My Belle!"

"You need to eat something to bring up your strength, lest you be of no use to the one you love."

Adam felt anxiety clutching at his chest. He had already wasted more time than he really had a need to. He had to leave. Suddenly, he no longer cared how much of his body the Enchantress saw. Thus he stood up, revealing himself to the Enchantress's eyes.

"Wh-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" she sreamed in panic.

"I'm going to get my clothes."

"Not until after you eat something!"

Adam tried to walk past the Enchantress to get to the door. It seemed easy enough. She was so tiny compared to him. But as he attempted to step past her, he felt his body being forced backwards through the air and pounded upon the bed. The blankets flung themselves back over him and restrained him so that he could not move his limbs. Adam's heart raced in fury. He tried to push off his blankets, but found his arms would not budge. The Enchantress, on the other hand, had never moved. She hadn't had any need to.

"Just relax, Adam," she said as she walked over to the stove. "I'm going to get you some soup."

Adam, however, did not relax. His face twisted in frustration. He continued in his efforts to move his limbs. Sweat itched down his forehead. His chest ached with strain. He couldn't move. The Enchantress brought, to his side, a bowl releasing an aromatic steam. Still, he continued trying to move. He couldn't move. The Enchantress was using her magic and the blankets to hold him down. He couldn't move. He began to make a noise similar to growling as he strained his muscles with a luxury they didn't seem to have. He- couldn't- move!"

Wait! His arm was moving. His arm was moving! Slowly but surely, his arm was moving! The Enchantress could see it peaking upward beneath the blankets. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes dilated several centimeters. How was he doing this? It was impossible! Human sinew against the infinite strength of magic. This was incredible!

Adam let out a series of pants. With a semi-poetic motion, he tore himself free from the mattress and blankets. The Enchantress, in a moment of awe, had lost her concentration and released Adam from her hold. She continued to look on him in disbelief as he ripped the bowl of soup from her weakened fingers and downed it in a quick series of gulps. She admired the ebbing motion of his throat as he swallowed.

As Adam swallowed the aromatic concoction, he felt a new energy fill his body- from his core outward and throughout every one of his extremities. A fresh sense of determination jolted through his brain. The slight pain that had pinched his abdomen diminished until it completely ceased to be. He felt like a new man. He wondered exactly what it was that he was drinking, but he didn't have time to ask. Besides, whatever it was must have been good.

"There!" he barked as he placed the bowl back in the Enchantress's mannequin-like fingers. "I drank the damn soup. NOW I AM GOING TO GET-MY-CLOTHES!"


	4. Chapter 4: Clue

Hey Everyone! I know this one is much shorter than the previous chapters. I consider it to be a bridge chapter. Please R&R. If you haven't reviewed previous chapters, please do so! Thanks :)

Chapter 4: Clue

"Here is your sword," The Enchantress said, tossing the weapon to Adam.

He caught it in midair and hooked the sheath to his belt. He had never had to use it, though he had carried it with him everywhere since he had become human again. It was the custom. Men carried swords.

Adam was now fully clothed, though his shirt and coat were still torn in a few places and a faint peachy stain could be seen where blood had soaked his shirt. But it didn't matter. He figured he was going to receive a few more rips and stains in his clothing by the time he was through with his task.

He mounted his horse, Helene, for the Enchantress had found both she and Philippe tethered to a tree on the riverside and brought them back to her cottage.

"Thank you for your help," Adam said, "I will come back for Philippe once I rescue Belle. So long!"

With that, he nudged his heel into Helene's flank and rode off into the woods.

"Be careful!" the Enchantress called as he disappeared from her view.

Adam rode to the village of Petitteville- the place that had once been Belle's home. He did not know who it was that had taken his wife or where they had gone, but he figured that the nearby village would be the best place to begin his search.

He received strange looks from the villagers as he rode past. He had invited them to his home on several occasions during the past year and, thus, they knew who he was, though they were currently perplexed by the state of his appearance. He had been into town many times since his last transformation and, although he did not always dress in formal attire, he at least appeared far better groomed than he was present. At present, his hair was a wind-whipped mess decorated with an assortment of leaves and twigs, his clothing was torn, and he was in desperate need of a shave.

"Whoa!" he said, pulling at Helene's reins and bringing her to a stop before the tavern.

He tied the mare to a post and dismounted onto the porch.

"Your highness!" a short, plump woman carrying a basket of groceries called from the street below. "You appear to be troubled. Is anything the matter?"

Adam turned to look at her. He did not look on her with resentment, but the seriousness of the fire in his eyes frightened her to the point of an inaudible gasp.

"No," Adam replied with honesty that matched the seriousness of his gaze. "I am not okay. Belle has been kidnapped. Have you seen her?"

"What? Belle, kidnapped!" the woman cried, "Well, no. I haven't seen her. I'll keep a look out for her."

So strange that that was all that could be done for a princess- keep a look out for her. As Adam walked into the tavern, the woman couldn't help thinking about how strange it had seemed when that funny girl was wed to the son of Lord Beaumont. Now it suddenly made sense. What was he doing? He, a prince coming to a tavern looking like such a mess, making up stories about his wife being kidnapped just so he would have an excuse to come get a drink- The nerve!

What'll it be sir?" the bartender asked as Adam walked up to the counter; then he looked up and realized who it was he was talking to. "Oh, your highness- I am so sorry! What'll you have? It's on the house."

"No need for that," Adam explained, trying to sound polite despite the hoarseness of his voice. "I'm not here for a drink. I'm looking for my wife."

"Huh? You lost her?"

"No. She's been kidnapped. I was wondering if anyone has seen her or any strange business going on lately."

The bartender looked around before engaging in Adam's confidence by bending over the counter and whispering, "I don't know if this will help you find your wife, but I have seen a couple of suspicious new customers in here lately. I don't know if it's true, but they appear to be the mercenary type- both foreigners. There are rumours that they were once associated with the Barbary pirates."

"Really?" Adam replied. "When do these two men normally come in for drinks."

"Usually really late. Around ten at night."

"Well," Adam said, hinting that he was about to leave. "I believe that I may come in for a drink around ten, myself. That is, if I don't find what I'm looking for elsewhere."

"Always a pleasure to have you, your highness!" the bartender said, waving a friendly good-bye. "Always a pleasure to have you."

Adam searched through the village all evening for anyone who had a clue as to Belle's whereabouts. He checked the library, the bakery, the market, and even the brothel- where the courtesans tried the best they could to seduce him, but only ended up scaring him away without a single inkling. Adam sighed, he couldn't give up. He would go to the ends of the earth to find Belle. The one he lived for. But first, he was going back to the tavern.

Just before ten, he arrived at the tavern. Had he the liberty to take time and appreciate the fact, he would have found it odd that he was not the least bit tired. Whatever the Enchantress had given him was very powerful indeed. The Enchantress. She had helped him even more than he cared to realize. She had nurtured him far more than his own mother- nearly as much as Mrs. Potts.

Adam's boots stamped rhythmically upon the planks of the porch as he walked to the tavern door. He had just opened it- welcomed by the warm glow of lantern light and the tinkling of bells- when the back of his head was stricken by a blunt blow of agony. He felt himself falling backward as his surroundings were clouded and blended in with the dancing shadow of lantern light.

In the glow of the tavern windows, two large men took the fallen prince beneath his arms and heaved him into the shroud of night. Violence rode on the silent air as it all disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5: Redemption

Chapter 5: Redemption

Adam woke up with a familiar warmth against hands, which happened to be tied behind his back. He could tell they were tied by the roughness of the thick rope around them. How many times was this going to happen to him? How many times was going to black out before opening his eyes to that ray of light? To Belle?

"Adam?" he heard a soft, weak voice say from just behind him. "Are you awake?"

Adam's heart beat so fast that he could feel its vibration setting off a chain reaction throughout his body. How wonderful it felt to hear that voice! He would know that voice anywhere- as though it also belonged to him. It was a voice sweeter to his ears than any nectar to his tongue. It was the voice of his love! His life! No matter how much lethargy in which it chose to call for him. It was the voice of his sweet Belle!

"Belle, is that you?" Adam replied excitedly, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," Belle replied. "Yes, my love, it is me."

"Oh, Belle. I'm so glad that I've found you. I promise that I'm going to get us out of here."

That warmth he felt against his back was hers. She was sitting with her back against his, her hands tied just as were his. Adam strained his wrist so that he could feel the softness of Belle's hand within his own. Although he had been knocked out, he could still feel the energy of the Enchantress's potion. Now, as he caressed Belle's hand with his thumb, he felt as though he were invincible. He needed to get her out and back home safely, but how? Adam searched about the dimly- lit room with his eyes, looking for the answer.

On one side, there was a door. Adam craned his neck to see a twin-sized bed behind him. In front of him there was a rather bare expanse of wall. And in the corner to his right, there was his sword in its sheath.

"Belle," Adam said quietly. "We're going to get out of here. Just be patient."

He released his wife's hand and used his weight to turn his back to the corner. He tried to stand up, but ended up letting out a brief grunt as he fell back on his rear. Looking at his legs, which were now stretched before him, he realized why. They were crossed and tied at the ankles. Noticing this, he immediately began scooting backwards across the floor. There was no time to waste and he was not giving up. Whoever had captured him and his wife might return soon, and he wanted for at least one of them to be freed by that time.

He was a few inches away from the sword when the door opened.

"Where do you think you're going?" a nasally voice sounded through the room as a short, plump man with a very large nose walked in.

Adam panicked, though not intimidated by the plump figure. He fumbled with his hands as he struggled to reach for the sword. He almost had it! He could feel its nearness. Just a little further . . .

"Ha! Needing this?"

The plump man was now standing above Adam, waving the sword tauntingly before his face. Adam tried to hide his indignation, but his eyes stubbornly blazed.

"Corpseface! Billy!" the plump man whined, indicating Adam's position. "This prisoner won't accept the place we've so kindly set for him. I think we need to teach him what we do to such ingrates."

Soon two hulking, exotic-looking men with pinched expressions marched into the room. They stomped in unison, like two well-trained bulldogs, to where Adam was sitting. Their muscles rippled as they pulled him up from beneath his arms and heaved him back to the middle of the room, where he made an unholy grunt and plopped backwards before Belle's knees.

"No!" she cried involuntarily as one of the hulking men scraped his boot across Adam's face and the other forced his foot into his solar plexus.

Adam crunched his body inward, coughing madly through the blood dripping down from his upper lip. He looked back up at his apprehenders with malice written across his forehead and chin.

"LeFou!" Belle screamed through unchained tears of helplessness as she looked into the agonized gaze of her beaten husband. "Please, LeFou! Please stop this! Why must you be so cruel?"

The short, plump man approached, still carrying Adam's sword. Adam stared up at the sword. The intricate design of the sheath. The taunting hilt. Oh how he wanted to have it in his hands right now!

LeFou reached out and smacked Belle across the cheek. Adam's ears perked disturbingly at the sound. A rage thundered throughout his circulatory system. Oh, if only he could free his hands and get hold of that sword! He would do some hideous damage with it.

LeFou laughed horribly as Adam released a low growl.

"You really are an animal aren't you?" he fumed.

Adam's eyes betrayed him as they widened. Did this man know about Adam? About the curse and everything?

"You and all of you nobles think you are so great but, really, you are all just animals."

Adam sighed with an infinitesimal relief. At least LeFou was not aware of his past form. However, he was soon reminded that that wasn't what really mattered at the moment when one of the large men picked him up and pounded him back down to his original position behind Belle.

"Why are you doing this, LeFou?" Belle cried.

Adam could no longer see her face, but he could tell she was still sobbing. He could feel her shudder as though the shudder were taking place in his own bones. Still, he kept on thinking. There had to be another way out of here.

"I am only doing what is right," LeFou replied to Belle's question. "Gaston was in love with you. But instead of being able to marry you, you were stolen away from him and he was murdered by that prince's horrible monster of a pet!"

Belle was already disgusted by what LeFou was saying. Gaston had been in love with her? Were it true, she would not have detested the thought quite so much. But she knew all too well that Gaston had never loved any living soul, not even his own; the only thing he had ever loved was his ego. Adam paused in his thoughts for a moment as a bout of shocked laughter ebbed at his throat. So this is what people thought about the Beast: that he had been some exotic pet.

"This pathetic excuse of a prince who just now decides to show his face after ten years of absence is no match for the late great Gaston!" LeFou continued and Belle noticed, for the first time, the true madness in his voice.

She looked him over for the first time since she had been captured, and she noticed some things that should have seemed obvious. His hair was sticking up in a disheveled mess. His clothes were threadbare and stained with tidbits of food. His face was covered with dirt and, as Belle took another breath, she smelled the stench of a year's-worth of shirked bathing. What had happened to him since Gaston's death? While Gaston was alive, LeFou had never gone anywhere without Gaston. It was almost as though he were an extension of Gaston himself.

"The only man good enough for any woman is Gaston!" LeFou continued further. "But he chose you and, thus, he should have you!"

"But Gaston is dead!" Belle shouted in confusion. "There is no way I could be his wife!"

LeFou released a maniacal chortle- a chortle so maniacal that Belle leaned back into Adam from fright.

"Yes, that he is," LeFou replied. "And so will you soon be."

Belle's frightened expression twisted into an expression of utter shock. She had already noted that LeFou was not the same as she remembered, but she would have never expected this. Not from LeFou. He had always been a rather rude little squirt, but he had never seemed the least bit threatening. And now he was threatening to kill someone- a woman! Belle herself!

"Yes, Belle," he spoke so close to Belle's face that she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Tomorrow is Gaston's birthday and I think the best gift I could possibly give him is you. But don't worry! Your husband will be here to watch, and then I will send him to Hell. People who steal don't go to Heaven."

Several hours later, Adam and Belle still sat back to back with their wrists and ankles bound. One of the hulking men had been left to sit on the bed as a guard. At this moment, he was sitting with his arms crossed and head bowed. Every couple of seconds, he let out a low snore.

"Belle," Adam whispered.

"Yes Adam?"

"Is that oaf asleep?"

Belle chuckled slightly. Even in the worst of situations, Adam seemed to have a knack for amusing her.

"Yes," she replied.

"Okay," Adam said. "We need to find a way out of here. We just have to be very quiet."

Belle nodded, though she knew Adam couldn't see her agreement. Adam strained his brain in every direction. Was he just kidding himself? Trying to give Belle and himself hope before meeting their untimely end? It was the least he could do for her, for she had given him so much hope when it had seemed there was none to spare. Oh, if only he had his sword! His sword!

Wait a second! He had a dagger hidden in his right boot. He always kept it there. Too bad his feet were tied together. But maybe if he could slip his foot out of the boot . . .

"Belle," he whispered. "I have an idea. Don't worry. I'm going to get us out of here."

Adam grunted as he bent his knees upon the floor. It pinched something terrible, but he couldn't let that stop him. He strained his legs upward, his arms downward. His back ached as he arched it downward, his shoulder blades inward. He stretched and flexed, grunted in his efforts until finally . . . Eureka! He had caught his right boot between his hands. Keeping a firm hold, he pulled his legs back down. He twisted his foot, already feeling the burn from his stocking. He strained, and pulled, and twisted until he felt his back and forehead sweating from the effort. Then, finally, he could feel his foot, new blisters and all, coming free from his boot. At the same time, he heard something clang onto the floor. He and Belle both panicked as they heard the guard momentarily stir, but they quickly calmed when they heard him continuing to snore.

"Belle."

"Yes, Adam?"

"I am going to pick up my dagger. Could you unsheathe it for me?"

"Yes, of course."

Adam groped behind him with his tethered hands until he felt the warm handle of his dagger. He poked one of Belle's hands with the tip of his dagger's sheath. Belle clutched it between her hands and leaned forward. As she did so, Adam's blade was bared.

"Alright, Belle, I want you to hold very still. I'm going to cut you free," he said, holding the edge of the blade on the length of rope restraining Belle's hands.

As Belle held her arms as still as she could, Adam began filing the rope around her wrists as steadily as he could with his hands tied behind his back.

"Adam, I think you've almost freed me," Belle whispered after much time.

That was right before the door was opened and LeFou entered with the second hulking man. The one who had been sitting watch was stirred awake with a start.

Adam stroked the rope with his blade one more time and Belle could feel that her wrists were freed. Too bad it was far too late.

"Sorry, kids," LeFou said as he walked in. "I would have been here earlier, but I had to make a tip off payment to Charlie the bartender."

_Of course! That's how the two oafs knew when I'd be at the tavern_ Adam thought to himself.

One of the large men grabbed Belle and threw her on the bed.

"Hey! Her arms are untied!" he exclaimed when he noticed Adam's work.

"Corpseface," LeFou whined. "How did that happen when you were sitting watch all night?"

"Ummmm? Well," Corpseface mumbled.

"Hey!" LeFou shouted as he pointed to Adam who was now struggling to file down his own wrist bindings. "He's got a dagger! Grab it, Billy!"

Soon, Adam could feel that hulking presence behind him. He struggled to keep a grip on his dagger as his arms were twisted about into a bend of agony; but the hulking oaf's strength outweighed his own and the short blade was finally pried from his fingers.

"Turn him so that he can watch," LeFou ordered just before Billy turned the prince so that he could see his princess being held down, from behind, to the mattress.

The look in her eyes shot agony into his own. That's when he felt that rage again- that foreboding presence building pressure within his veins.

"Sir," Billy grumbled.

"Yes, what is it Billy?" LeFou replied with definite frustration.

"His legs are loose."

"Well, then, break them!"

Billy made to pound Adam's legs but, when Adam began kicking at his face, he decided to simply grab them at the ankles. Adam made a pained hiss as he continued trying to break his legs free from the stupid hulk's grip.

"This dagger gives me an idea," LeFou taunted as he fiddled playfully with the dagger in his hand, for Billy had passed it over to him. "How about I kill your wife with your own weapon? It will almost be as though you killed her, yourself. Gaston will be so pleased with you! Maybe you will be go to Heaven after all."

Adam's face was now contorted into an expression of utter hatred. There were no attempts to hide it now. He watched as LeFou walked over to Belle and ran his dagger lightly beneath her chin- not quite forceful enough to draw her blood, but enough to boil Adam's. With more determination than he ever had, Adam struggled to break from the rope with his bare hands and out of the giant oaf's grasp, his legs moving wildly. He felt like a caged animal. He had felt this before. Yes, long ago- before Belle had come into his life. He needed to let it go. He needed to break free.

"GGGGRRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" he roared bringing, to himself, the attention of everybody in the room.

Belle's eyes dilated with dread. She knew what was coming. But how could it be? LeFou's eyes also grew large with pure confusion. This could not be happening! The two dumb hulks didn't know what they were looking at, yet their hearts beat instinctively quick.

Adam could feel it. It hurt worse than anything else. He'd felt this pain once before. His head was drawn into a torrent of Hell. His back and neck arced and cracked in a rise of agony. He felt as though his insides were being ripped out. All his extremities flexed and twisted without his consent. The room suddenly became much warmer, despite the fact that his coat had popped off and his shirt had ripped open. Finally his wrists swelled, forcing themselves in an agonizing push against the rope tethering them together, until they busted free.

"GRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHRRRR!" he roared again, only deeper now, and he knew that it was complete.

Billy uttered a scream that seemed unimaginable when coming from such a large mass of male muscle. But it made sense that his scream would seem so unimaginable for, standing now before him- the very cause of his scream- was something that would seem quite unimaginable to a sane mind.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE LET GO OF ME WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE!" The Beast growled as he took the hulking man, by the neck, in one of his massive paws.

"Please! No NO! NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Those were Billy's final words as the Beast crushed the great oaf's windpipe and dropped him to the floor, where his blood flowed from the gaping hole in his neck and seeped between two boards.

"LET HER GO, YOU BASTARD!"

Belle, feeling her arms being released, sat up to look behind the headboard of the bed, upon which she was just being held. She watched in horror as her husband (or was it her husband?) scratched huge bleeding marks into Corpseface's face and then wrenched his claws into his gut, ripped it wide open, and allowed for the contents to leak and splatter all over the place. What was left of the Beast's clothing was now covered in blood, but he did not seem to notice.

"THAT'S FOR EARLIER!" He shouted as he carelessly walked over Corpseface's lifeless, hulking form.

The Beast sniffed at the air. Where was that little man? That's the one he really wanted. He was over here with a dagger at Belle's throat a few minutes ago . . . Where was he? AH HA!

The Beast caught sight of his final target. He was fumbling with the doorknob, but his fright had become poison to life. He was next, and he knew it. There was no escaping it.

"Please, don't hurt me!" LeFou pleaded with his hands folded and tears streaming violently down his face. "Please! I'm begging you! I'm begging YOOOOOOO-"

LeFou shrieked horribly. He fell to the ground, clutching at his chest. The blood dripped between his fingers. He fidgeted, wheezed, struggling to sustain his life. But it was too late. The Beast had clawed out his heart. The little man died, his face suddenly holding a strange, serene tranquility.

Belle felt her heart thudding violently at her chest, as though it were about to break through her flesh. The Beast stood there, before the door, with his back facing her for the next few seconds. Those few seconds hung in the air, along with their ghastly silence, for what seemed like hours. Finally, the Beast turned to look at the fragile young woman sitting stiffly at the edge of the bed. She looked terrified. Why was she so terrified?

Belle did not recoil as the Beast approached her, though she could feel tears threatening her sight. She looked up into the Beast's eyes- those unchanging eyes- and suddenly felt safe. Now she realized that her soul was aching, but not for her own sake- for his.

The Beast knelt down on the floor, as though humbling himself to become Belle's servant. He used a claw to cut through the rope that still bound her ankles. He then stood to take her and shelter her in his arms, warming her with the closeness of his massive body. She felt him trembling and, suddenly, she realized that he, too, was crying.

Belle reached up to cradle the Beast's face in one of her hands. The two somehow kindred spirits stared into each other's faces as she gently caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes, releasing his final tears, and then, all around her, she could feel him becoming human again. His body was now less massive, but Belle suddenly felt safer than ever.

"Belle, I am so sorry. I can't believe I've done this. Can you ever forgive me?" Adam inquired, his voice quaking with shame.

Belle looked over the man holding her. His clothes were torn, his hair matted, his body covered in blood (not to mention the blood already dried beneath his nails). Why was this? Was it because he was some sort of evil creature who enjoyed killing? Looking up into his eyes- eyes full of despair- she knew that to not be true. He had killed because he loved her more than the security of his own soul. Could she ever forgive that?

"Oh, Adam!" she sobbed, with total abandon, into his shoulder. "Let us go home, my love."


	6. Chapter 6: I Remember Mama

Hello, everyone! :) I would first like to thank everyone who has read every chapter thus far. Second, I am asking you al to please leave a review! PLEASE REVIEW! It would be much appreciated. Thank you!

Just a little warning: I cried while writing this chapter (makes since, since it is the longest one I have written for this story thus far). I don't know, maybe it's just because I am super sensitive (I was an emo chick in high school) or because I wrote it and am very attached to the characters despite the fact that I do not own them. Maybe this is a truly touching chapter. You be the judge. Thanks for R & R!

Chapter 6: I Remember Mama

Belle awoke from a restless sleep. The baby within her had grown much since the incident with LeFou and his henchmen. By the thirteenth of May, which was Adam's birthday, Belle had to have new gowns made. It was now the middle of June and carrying the child along with the newly-arrived summer heat was becoming quite a burden. Every morning, she awoke with a queasy feeling at the base of her throat. Her breasts hurt something terrible, but she did not dare restrain them from movement by putting on a corset. She had a hard time sleeping, for she had to lay on her back with a new human kicking at her from the inside. However, there was something new that made Belle feel dazzlingly wonderful. Every kick seemed a gift to her- a reminder that she had become a nurturing temple for precious life.

Belle was suddenly startled by the realization of the vacant space of bed beside her. She sat up and placed her hand where Adam normally lay to find that his warmth did not even remain. Suddenly she felt strange. She did not immediately believe her husband to be in danger, but his absence imposed a brief emptiness within her chest. She had become accustomed to Adam being there. He always waited for her to wake up, no matter how long he had already been awake. He didn't mind sitting there for hours just to watch her sleep. And when she would finally awaken, he would be there to greet her with his tender affection and words of sweet nothing- actually seeming to be everything to her as he uttered them.

Belle was lost in thought when a polite knock sounded at her chamber door. She didn't answer. She suddenly realized that she thought she had heard it, just as she had every morning, and shook herself partway out of her fog of curiosity. She waited, for a moment, for the rapping to return so that she could verify what she thought she had heard against habit.

"Come in!" she called when the knocking did return.

"Good morning, Dearie!" Mrs. Potts said as she entered with the tea cart. "I've brought your morning tea. Master Adam says that 'e will meet you in the dining room for breakfast."

Mrs. Potts poured piping hot tea into a dainty teacup, placed it on a saucer, and handed it to Belle, who now sat on the edge of the bed. Mrs. Potts turned the cart to leave the room, but Belle spoke before she could roll it a foot.

"Where is Adam, Mrs. Potts?" she spoke, blowing gently at the surface of the tea, which resembled a warm lake in the chill of early winter as dainty wisps of vapour rolled over the wind-goaded ripples.

Mrs. Potts stopped stiffly in her steps. She knew what day it was, as did all the other servants in the castle. This had never been a good day- not for many a year. Well, it hadn't been so bad last year when Adam was distracted by the task of adapting to his new human body. Besides, he had been so lost in Belle that he didn't need to think on the sorrow of that day. He was still lost in her- even more so than he had been then- but now, Belle was going to be a mother. The realization of this must have brought into his mind the memory of his own . . .

"'E's- 'e's," Mrs. Potts sighed. "'e must be out at 'is mother's grave."

Belle's coughed, spitting out a spurt of hot tea onto the floor. Adam had a mother? Well, of course he had a mother. Everyone has a mother. But Adam- he had never mentioned his mother, or either of his parents for that matter. Belle had told him of how her mother had died in childbirth, and Adam knew her father personally; but Belle had learned nothing about Adam's parents. So strange that she never wondered.

"Oh," Belle said, trying to act as though she were not surprised. "Well then, I suppose I ought to leave him alone."

"I think that would be best," Mrs. Potts replied as she hastened out of the room.

A half hour later, once she had readied herself for the day, Belle headed down to the dining room for breakfast. The sun had hardly made its presence known in the sky, and the birds were bidding the world "good morning". Belle noted the brilliance of the dewdrops on the red rose petals outside the window. Cogsworth seated her and her father, who was seated beside her, shortly greeted her. But where was Adam? He had said that he would be meeting her for breakfast. Had he eaten already? Belle did not mind having some time with just her father, but Adam was not the type to skip a meal.

"Cream, Madame?" Lumeire asked brightly as he held the creamer over her oatmeal.

"What?- Um- Oh, yes, please," Belle replied absent-mindedly, just noticing that someone had asked her a question- not really caring as to what she was saying "yes".

Lumeire, not being an oblivious breed of man (which happened to be one of the many reasons women liked him so well), noticed the worried notes in Belle's overall expression.

"What is it, Madame? Is there something troubling you?"

"Yes, Belle," Maurice added in agreement, as he swallowed and dabbed his lips with his napkin. "You do appear to be a little on the bluesy side today."

"Well," she began. "It's just Adam. I know I shouldn't be so worried, but I've always sensed this sadness deep within him- even at his best moments. I know he loves me, but he has never opened up to me. Now I find out that his mother- his mother- is deceased. He has been out at her grave all morning and, although I know I must respect that, I find myself feeling as though I need to approach him. I know it's selfish, but I worry that he doesn't trust me enough to confide in me about his feelings."

Lumeire sat down on the other side of Belle. He was the one who, besides Belle, knew Adam best. Although he was quite a bit older than his master, he and Adam had always been friends. Lumeire knew, better than all other servants, the sadness that lie within Adam's soul. But, as a fellow male, he never felt he had the liberty to force the prince to speak about what troubled him. Yes, he would often ask, but he could never press about it. When Adam said that he did not wish to talk about it, he had to back off. But here was Belle. Maybe she was the one- no- she had to be the one. She could finally help the prince to move beyond the grief.

"Belle," Lumeire replied, "Adam has never confided in anyone the pain he feels about his mother's death. Believe me, Cherie, he trusts you more than anyone in the castle. It's just that, sometimes, men have different reasons for not sharing their feelings- it is not always about trust."

Belle nodded, feeling guilty for feeling somewhat relieved already.

"Part of the reason he won't share his feelings with you is that he cares about you very deeply," Lumeire continued. "He does not wish for you to worry about him. He just doesn't realize that he's causing you to worry all the more by hiding his feelings. And, naturally, as a husband he does not wish for his wife to think he is weak. A man's pride is a very fragile thing."

"Oh," Belle said. "But I really want to help him. I want him to feel as though he can talk to me about anything."

"And he will, Madame," Lumeire replied with a friendly nod, placing his arm around her. "You are just going to have to let him know how much it would mean to you."

After breakfast, Belle headed down the cobblestone path, behind the castle, beyond the stables, beyond the gardens and fountains, and to the family cemetery. At first sight, Belle decided that, since the enchantment had been lifted, this had to be the most foreboding area on the whole estate. A rusted iron fence threatened the sky with the points of its spear-like posts. Straight, grey headstones stood like angry soldiers, marking the final resting spots for many generations-worth of the Beaumont family. The grass within the fenced-in area also stood straight and grey, and even the sparse trees that shaded the graves seemed lifeless- their stiff branches bare and colourless.

The gate creaked open as Belle pushed through to enter. The grass crunched and crumbled into the dust as she trod over it. She looked around and it did not take her long to find Adam, the only living creature in this place so desolate. He was kneeling deeply before a grave that sat evenly with one of the lifeless trees, fresh red roses lain bundled at his feet. His head was bowed upon folded hands, his eyes closed tightly. Belle could hear him praying. She approached him, reluctantly, not wishing to startle him.

In a near- inaudible whisper, she could hear him saying something that sounded like, "Please forgive me. I didn't mean it. I wish it had been me instead. . ."

Belle took another step forward. Having become entranced by her husband's enthusiasm, she did not take care to make it a soft one.

Adam stopped in his prayer and slowly lifted his head. Standing just as slowly, he turned to face his wife.

Belle could now see a part of her husband that she had never before seen out in the open. He did not appear angry for her having interrupted him. He did not appear perplexed. However, Belle was taken aback by the state of his countenance. On his face, was an image of broken innocence; the sorrow in his expression created the illusion that his face was sunken in- much like a starving child's. She held her breath as she realized the graveness of his clothing- all black. Adam sometimes wore black boots and black pants, but Belle had never seen him wear a black coat. She didn't like it. It seemed to drain all the colour out of him.

"Belle," he said, sounding as though he were going to cry. "I would like you to meet my mother."

"Adam," Belle said, walking into him so that he would wrap his arms around her, for she could tell he needed to hold her. "Why did you never tell me about your mother?"

Adam kissed the top of Belle's head, smelling the floral fragrance of her hair. Why hadn't he told her? He wanted to know everything about her, but he had not shared many of the things that had affected him the deepest. Why not? Wouldn't she understand?

"Belle," Adam finally replied, looking straight into his wife's face.

He was going to tell someone! Not just anyone- the one he loved and who loved him the most. She would be the one to heal the hurt he had borne in his heart for so long!

"Belle."

"Yes, Adam?"

"I- I-"

Yes. Yes! He was going to let it out! They could both feel it.

"I-" Adam sighed. "Belle, you look absolutely stunning today. Why don't we go on a picnic together."

_Damn_ Adam thought to himself _I can't tell her. She already has enough to deal with- readying herself for a child and all. She doesn't need to worry about me._

_I'm sorry, Adam_ Belle thought to herself. _But I am not going anywhere with you until we talk about this._

"Belle, what's the matter?" Adam asked.

He had tried to walk her out of the cemetery but, as he opened the gate, she froze, crossing her arms over her swollen belly. He tried to take her back under his arm and continue walking, but she would not budge. He looked at her face. She did not appear disgruntled. Actually, her expression seemed to be one of despair.

"Adam, we need to talk."

"About what?" Adam chuckled, though he could now feel that old sinking sensation at the pit of his stomach.

Belle looked up at him, her eyes brimming with questions that begged so dearly to be answered. And yet, all she really wanted to do was heal the hurt that darkened the light in his eyes.

"Adam," Belle finally mustered up enough courage to say. "I know that you love me very much and that you want me to feel secure- but the truth is, I worry very much about you."

"Well, Belle," Adam replied with false confidence. "You don't have to worry. There is nothing to worry about. I am perfectly fine."

He stooped to kiss her softly on the lips. Normally such a kiss would send a great bright feeling throughout her body, but not this time. And if it had, she would have been much too distracted by her own frustration to notice.

"Adam, you and I both know, fully well, that is untrue," Belle replied. "If only you could see your face right now. You look so sad and pale. Please, Adam! Please let me in! You have always been there to listen to me. Let me help you!"

Oh no! Was she crying? She was crying! He couldn't stand it- the pain now stabbing his heart reminded him of this. He had always abhorred seeing Belle cry- especially when he had been the cause of it. But what she was saying was not making any sense. He had been there for her? Well, he always did do his best to listen and understand. But the way he saw it, she was the one who had helped him far beyond his ability to ever return the favour- though that is what he so longed to do. How could he ever place himself further in her debt? It wouldn't be fair. The burden of his pain had weighed so heavily on him already- and for so long! It was a part of him, engraved as a name upon his soul- grief. It would take everything she had to buff it out. Did he really have a right to ask this of her?

"I don't need your help."

Oh no! He had said that without thinking. That wasn't what he meant to say at all. He just didn't want to talk about . . . Oh no! Now there was no denying it. She really was crying. His heart stopped. He was utterly helpless. What should he do? Oh what a burden to be a tormented man in love!

"Please, Adam! Don't be so cold! I am your wife- your friend! I want to help you!"

He could feel the anxiety pulsing throughout his body. It placed so much pressure on his brain- his head! Oh, his aching head! He had to get away. He couldn't take it! He wanted to comfort her and dry her tears, but his thoughts were so unclear. Maybe if he walked away-

"ADAM!"

He turned back, startled. Oh no! Now he'd really done it. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He was just trying to get away. In his confusion he had pushed her. She was blocking his way through the gate. He hadn't pushed her hard- he hadn't had to. Her unstable pregnant body could be easily befuddled. Now she was falling-falling in slow motion- and he had pushed her!

"Don't worry, Belle! I've got you," he said, catching her beneath the arms before she hit the ground.

With his arms locked around her, he carefully lowered her to the ground, allowing her to sit nestled between his legs.

"Oh, Belle!" he whispered, his lips trembling frightfully at the side of her neck. "I am so sorry."

"Adam," Belle sobbed, her face now sopping wet with her own tears. "Why? Why must you push others away? We all love you so much! We just want you to be happy. Can't you see that?"

"Yes, Belle," Adam cooed softly into his wife's ear, now rocking her gently back and forth. "Yes, I do. I- I- I guess that I've always thought the pain would heal itself if I just held it in- if I just didn't talk about it. I know that it hasn't worked, thus far, but I really don't wish to drag anyone else into it. Maybe it's this stubborn pride of mine. Maybe I don't want for people to see how weak I really am. But now . . . I know there's no denying it. I mean, I just pushed down my precious wife who never did anything wrong but love me."

Belle could feel it. He was stifling his tears. She could feel the shudder within him just as well as she could feel her own within herself.

"Please, Adam," Belle replied with the sweetness of a little child. "Don't ever say things like that. You are not weak. Adam- you are strong! Remember what the Enchantress said-"

"Yes," Adam interrupted. "But that was before I pushed you."

"We both know you didn't mean that!" Belle snapped with stern honesty. "So don't give me that excuse! I am all right. You have not hurt me. The only thing that is hurting me is the fact that you are hurting and won't tell me what is wrong."

Adam sighed.

"Alright," he said with a nod in his voice. "I will tell you. . . Today- today is the anniversary of my mother's death. She died when I was seven years-old."

There was silence. Adam said no more, he just continued to rest his chin upon his wife's shoulder, his eyes closed- too sensitive to be opened to light. Belle felt his heart thudding frightfully against her back, and she knew that he hadn't said all that he needed to say.

"Adam," she said. "Why does your mother's death bother you as much as it does?"

"What?" Adam asked, struggling to sound bewildered. "What do you mean? She was my mother? What other reason should I have for being upset?"

"Well, my mother died while giving birth to me. I never really got to know her. I wish I could have but, besides that, I have never felt deeply aggrieved over my mother's passing. I love her, but I never knew her. Maybe if I had been closer to her, I would feel just the same as you do about your mother."

Belle waited through the momentary silence. This wasn't over. There had to be more.

"Actually, Belle," Adam finally said, much to Belle's relief. "Actually, I was never really close to my mother. And . . . And . . . She didn't simply die. I- I- I murdered her."

Belle's eyes grew large. She knew that Adam could feel her heart thundering against his arm. Adam could feel both her sweat and his own rolling down his neck. What he had just revealed still hung in the air.

"You- What?" Belle exclaimed. "I don't believe it."

"Believe it, Belle," Adam said, helping his wife off the ground along with himself. "That's what happened. I'm a murderer, Belle. It may not be what you wanted to hear, but it's true, Belle."

They faced each other, expressionless, for the next few minutes. _What does he mean, he killed her?_ Belle thought to herself. _Why would he say such a thing?_ Adam struggled to keep his mind blank but, soon, Belle could see a stream running down from his eye. He must have felt it, for he soon turned and began to walk away.

"Adam, wait!" Belle called, trying to catch up with his quick strides- those long legs! "Come back! Adam!"

It was useless. He was now running back to the castle and she, being six months pregnant, could not possibly catch up with him.

"Madame!" Lumeire said, greeting Belle when she finally made it through the back door. "What's happened? The Master stormed up the stairs several minutes ago, appearing to be very upset. I thought you went to talk to him."

"I did, Lumeire, " Belle replied sadly. "And I thought I finally had him opening up to me, but he just won't. He's even gone so far to try to scare me away by telling me he killed his mother."

"Oh," Lumeire said, his face filled with the same shock as a forgetful person who had just found the glasses, they thought they'd lost, sitting atop their head. "So that is what this has all been about."

"What?" Belle replied, appearing more confused than ever. "What do you mean? Did- did Adam really do as he said?"

"Oh, no, Cherie!" Lumeire chuckled assuredly. "No. The Master would have never killed his mother. He loved his mother very much. He just might be under a very strong impression that he did do such a thing."

"Oh," Belle said, even more perplexed.

"You see, Cherie," Lumeire continued in answer to her apparent confusion. "Your husband's childhood was not always a very pleasant one. All of us servants cared very much for him. He was a wonderful child- and I really mean that. He was so kind and caring! Wasn't he, Mrs. Potts?"

"Why yes, 'e certainly was," Mrs. Potts chimed in, for Lumeire really had caught sight of her as she entered the foyer. "And such a curious one, at that. 'E was always asking questions. The little tyke! 'E'd always be proud when 'e learned something new. 'E'd share it with the 'ole castle, 'e would!"

Suddenly, Mrs. Potts's cheery expression diminished into one of dread.

"Oh, but 'is father," she continued, sounding as though she were watching a friend being hanged. " Oh, 'is father did not like to be bothered at all. 'E would tell young Master Adam to leave 'im alone if 'e ever tried to talk wi' 'im. Lord Beaumont was a very grave man, indeed."

"Oh, yes," Cogsworth chimed in as he entered. "I remember, very well, Monsieur Beaumont becoming very severe when he'd find his son had gone outside without shoes on- he usually did- or had gone to play in the woods and come back covered with mud and with clothes full of holes. Come to think about it, his mother was just about the same way. His mother! Ha! She was the daughter of a very rich merchant. She didn't care about her family- her husband or her son. Lord Beaumont had wed her simply because she was beautiful and came from an upper-class family. All either one of them cared about was their own appearance. You should have seen how adamant they became when they realized just how much time the boy spent following around us servants! But did they ever make an effort to spend time with their son? Absolutely not!"

"Oh, never!" Lumeire added. "All they ever saw in their son was an heir to the seat in the House of France."

"Oh, if only they 'ad loved 'im as well as we always 'ave!" Mrs. Potts cried.

Belle was certainly taken aback. For the first time, she realized just how lonely her husband's childhood had been. As a child, Belle had always envied the children from families wealthier than her own. And here had been her husband- the son of a lord!- completely miserable. No wonder he was still so tormented! But wait, she still didn't understand why . . .

"But why would Adam think that he murdered his mother?" Belle asked.

"THE MASTER THINKS THAT HE KILLED HIS MOTHER?" Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth both asked in unison, sounding completely astonished.

"But why?" Cogsworth added.

"Belle, I think I know why," Lumeire began, pretending that neither Mrs. Potts or Cogsworth were listening. "At seven years of age, your husband became very ill. He was so ill that he was bed-bound for several months- nearly a full year."

"It was 'orrible, Belle," Mrs. Potts added. "You could 'ear 'is strained little coughs all the way down the 'all. It became so bad that 'e began spitting up blood. 'E didn't want to eat anything. 'E couldn't go out to play. All 'e could do was lay in bed all day. That doesn't do good for a child."

"No, it certainly doesn't," Lumeire continued. "But, as I was saying, he became very ill and was stuck in bed. Madame de la Grande Bouche, who was his nursemaid at the time, had started tending to him. However, Master Adam's mother didn't take a liking to that."

"Why not?" Belle asked.

"She said that Adam was her son. That it was her job to take care of him when he's ill," Lumeire explained. "No one really knows why she decided to act as a devoted mother so suddenly. Maybe it's because she was, for the first time, faced with the possibility of losing her only son."

"And she did become far closer to him during his illness than she had ever cared to before," added Cogsworth.

"Very true," Lumeire continued. "Too bad she ended up becoming ill, herself."

"Did she die from the same illness Adam had had?" Belle asked, finally connecting the dots to see the full picture.

Lumeire nodded in answer.

"But he didn't kill her!" Belle cried.

"I know, Cherie," Lumeire replied. "We all know."

"He was just a child. Doesn't he realize that it wasn't his fault? Someone had to take care of him!"

"That's not it, Cherie," Lumeire informed her. "I do not think that young Adam came up with that ludicrous idea on his own."

"You mean . . . someone else made him think that his mother's death was all his fault?" Belle asked, wondering what kind of indecent person would do such a thing- to an innocent child!

Lumeire nodded again.

"I am afraid so, Cherie. Shortly after the death of the Master's mother, his father left for Paris. He had gone many times before but, this time, no one had sent for him. This time, he went of his own accord. I do not know exactly what he told young Adam before he left- no one does. All we know is that his final conversation with his son was a very heated one. We could hear the sound of a child's crying and the angry boom of a grown man's voice. Who knows what Lord Beaumont told his son? All we know now is that, if he said something insensitive, he has yet to return and apologize."

Belle thought for a moment before replying.

"I think I understand, now," she finally said.

Belle swung open the great doors to the West Wing. There sat Adam, at the edge of the bed, his face buried in his large, masculine hands. He remained still and silent as she sat down beside him.

"Adam," Belle said, placing her hand upon his shoulder. "I want you to know that whatever your father told you wasn't true."

"No," Adam replied, his voice muffled by the thickness of his hands. "He was right. It was all my fault. If I hadn't gotten sick-"

"Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" Belle interrupted. "_If I hadn't gotten sick . . ._ Adam, you cannot control things like that. You did not choose for that to happen. If you could have controlled what happened, wouldn't your mother still be alive?"

"I suppose so," he replied.

"You see," Belle said. "Sometimes things don't go the way we want them to. Sometimes bad things do happen. It's not the fact that they happen that makes us the kind of people that we are, it's how we deal with them."

Adam looked up at Belle, realizing how serious she was about all this. Suddenly, he felt very sheepish. She was right. What was wrong with him? Why had he allowed himself to live as a victim for so long? Then a vague image of his father's face flashed within his mind- just for an instant. That's when he realized.

"Belle, I think I've always known- deep down- that I am not truly the one to blame for my mother's death," he began. "It's just that my father was so angry with me before he left. He said that I had never been the son he would have asked for. He was ashamed of me. He said that I would not have fallen ill if I hadn't snuck off to play with the peasant children that one day- before they found out who I was and shunned me. My father- he always thought of peasants as nothing more than vermin."

"Adam, I understand," Belle replied. "You are still affected by what your father said. Things like that hurt when they come from someone you love and who is supposed to love you in return. But understand that what your father said was wrong. You were just a child. You had no more control then than you would now, over what he said. But you do have control over what you do. Take your experience with your father. Use it to be a better person now. You do not have to follow in his footsteps."

Adam nodded with a smile of honest relief. How he had always admired that fire of hers! Starting in the corner of his eye, the image of Belle's pregnant tummy filled his vision. He smiled even broader now realizing that all of his past mistakes, all of the words he wished he could take back, the sting received from those who had hurt him- none of it mattered any longer. The realization became complete as he felt Belle's warm smile casting its light on him. Before him- the woman he loved with his child living within her womb- was a symbol of God's forgiveness. God had emulsified him of all he was ashamed, and had given him all he needed.

Adam eased himself off the bed to stand before his wife, glowing with the bounty of their shared love. He knelt down before her, rested his face upon her knees, and reached his hands up to rest them upon her belly. He caressed her, feeling for a sign from the precious treasure within. His heat leapt with elation when he felt it- a tiny kick. He shared a smile with his angel, revealing the full potential of the light in his eyes.

And with the most tender of intentions, he leaned in to press his lips deeply into Belle's tummy; at the same time, she knew that she had far more than she had ever dreamed of.


	7. Chapter 7: The Pearl

FYI: This is actually the first chapter I wrote for this story. I know that some people may find it both disturbing and emotionally beautiful at the same time, but that is how I wrote it. As a romantic, I believe that not everything in life if beautiful. The grotesque is juxtaposed with the gorgeous. We, as individuals, choose how to see things. Choice is what sets apart the human condition from others.

Well, I'll just let you read now. Please R & R!

Chapter 7: The Pearl

"I'm tired. I think I will read a little and go to bed," Belle said as she began walking up the steps, holding her aching head.

"I think I'll have to come with you," Adam replied. "It has been a long day."

The two smiled at each other, each one's face a beacon of light to the other's core. Adam took his wife's delicate hand in his own strong one and began guiding her up the steps. They walked together until they reached the middle of the staircase. That's when there was a sudden sploosh of fluid which came out from beneath Belle. Adam felt something spatter against his boot. Looking down he saw an area of darkened carpet on the step.

Belle made a gasping noise, as though she had been punched in the gut. As though she were fainting, she fell limply back into Adam's strong arms.

"Belle, what is it? Are you alright?" he asked, his heart throbbing due to a sudden pang of panic, turning her face gingerly to gaze up into his.

"Ad-am . . . I . . . I think . . . it's time," Belle forced out through short, choppy breaths.

"Alright, Belle, it's going to be alright," Adam said, taking Belle into his arms, one arm supporting her shoulder blades, the other wrapped around her knees; his one hand caressing her knee as though to soothe her.

Adam carefully cradled his wife in his arms¾ those strong, loving arms (Oh! How Belle loved those strong, loving arms!- as he made his way up the remainder of the steps and down the hall to the West Wing. He gently helped her out of her restrictive gown and undergarments, and re-clothed her in a loose nightgown. He laid her down on the bed so that she would be as comfortable as possible.

"Belle, I promise I will be back. I'm going to get help," Adam said, softly caressing his wife's cheek with his fingertips.

Belle nodded, trying to seem calm despite the great thrusts of pain taking over her lower abdomen. She did not want to make him any more worried than she knew he already was. Belle continued to breathe in a staccato rhythm as she watched her husband fade away from her side, storm through the doors, leave the room.

Within seconds she could hear his angelic tenor voice becoming a light, resonant baritone calling out desperately as though his cries were meant to bid open the Golden Gates themselves, "MRS. POTTS! COME UPSTAIRS, QUICK!"

Belle couldn't see him, but she knew that Adam must be pacing around near the landing. She could feel his anxiety along with her own pain. Through their shared love, they had become one. This thought made her wonder if he could feel her pain as well.

About a minute passed before Bell heard mumbling outside the door and Mrs. Potts's voice sending a necessary order: "FIFI! BRING UP A TUB OF WARM WATER AND A POT OF COOL WATER! MADAME DE LA GRANDE BOUCHE! BRING UP AS MANY TOWELS AS YOU CAN CARRY ALONG WITH A SMALL BLANKET! AND 'URRY!"

Then Mrs. Potts burst into the room.

"Alright, Dearie," Mrs. Potts warmly piped, "Everything is going to be alright. I 'ave given birth to ten children, meself. You are in good 'ands. Your friends are 'ere and we are going to make sure that this baby is born safely."

Belle was happy to have Mrs. Potts, she who had become a mother-figure to her since she had first come to live in the castle, there to help her through what she now had to do. But, suddenly, Belle could hold it in no more. She hurt all over and could not deny it. She let out a terrible scream like none she had ever emitted in her life.

"Belle, I'm coming!" Adam called from just outside the door.

He rushed in, a look of stricken panic clutching his countenance. His eyes were now the size of large coins, and Belle knew that he was just as afraid as her.

"Master!" Mrs. Potts said, roughly thudding her hand back against the center of Adam's chest. "I am sorry, but I already told you that you should wait outside."

"But why?" Adam snapped back. "Belle is in pain. I cannot leave her side now."

"Yes, I know, but it isn't right proper for a man to be present whilst 'is wife is in labour."

"Why not? I love her. The least I can do is be here to comfort her."

"Yes, but- "

Mrs. Potts was interrupted by the entrance of Fifi and Madame de la Grande Bouche.

"Oh, good!" Mrs. Potts said, "You've brought the water and the towels. Put the tub of 'ot water over on that table. And with some cool water and a small towel, wet Belle's face."

Fifi sat down the tub of hot water and then took one of the towels Madame de la Grande Bouche had brought up, wet it, padded over to Belle's side, and began caressing Belle's face with the wet towel.

"Now, Adam, please leave," Mrs. Potts pleaded.

"No!" he said stubbornly, crossing his arms.

"GET OUT!" all three female servants shouted in unison, staring into him with frustration crossing between their eyes.

That's when the Beast decided he was needed. Adam's face turned a shade redder than the hair on his scalp so that his head appeared as a blazing ball of fire. Even his eyes appeared as angry blue flames. Maybe that's what always made him all the more intimidating, as blue flames are the hottest.

"LOOK!," he shouted. "BELLE IS MY WIFE! MY LOVE! I ALSO HAPPEN TO BE THE MASTER OF THIS CASTLE, AS SHE IS MISTRESS! I AM NOT GOING ANYWHERE! SO YOU BETTER MOVE ASIDE! I HAVE NEVER HIT A WOMAN, BUT I WILL IF YOU CONTINUE TO STAND IN MY WAY! SO MOVE!"

Adam's opposition waned as Mrs. Potts allowed him by. His steps were deliberate as he strode determinedly to his wife's side. Shaking, Fifi dropped the wet rag into his hand before skulking away. Adam had always been rather tall, but he made everyone in the room feel suddenly smaller. None of the servants had seen Adam act out in such a fit of rage since the enchantment had been lifted. It was rather frightening. But, as Mrs. Potts looked on Adam now wiping his wife's face- his expression already calmed with only a look of loving concern to replace it- she was secretly glad that he had become so angry. Before, he had always become so angry when a certain darkness decided to take over the tortured goodness that was his soul; this time, it had been the goodness of his soul that decided to wipe out all torture and reveal his true desire: to prove how deep his love really was to the one who had saved him with her own love.

"AAGHH!" Belle cried before continuing to breathe as though there were not enough oxygen in the room to fill her lungs, now no longer trying to stifle her cries of pain.

Adam took her hand in his and she squeezed it as though she were hanging over a gaping chasm. Adam winced slightly. It wasn't so much because Belle was causing him pain, but because he was shocked to find with just how much force his fragile little Belle could grip his comparatively large hand.

"Alright, Belle, I'm going to 'elp you bend your knees. This will make it easier when it comes time to push," Mrs. Potts explained. "Adam, I want you to 'elp Belle sit up a little 'igher against the pillows."

Mrs. Potts, now sitting below and slightly to the side of Belle, gently helped Belle to bend her knees so that her feet rested flat upon the bed and about a foot apart from each other. Adam slipped one arm around Belle's shoulders and guided her forward. For only a brief moment, he pulled his hand away from hers so that he could stretch over and pull some pillows from the other side of the bed. Once he had the pillows piled high enough, he gently allowed Belle back against them. Belle groaned many times in succession. The pain was becoming too much to handle, or so she thought.

Gradually, she felt herself being exposed as Mrs. Potts pulled up Belle's nightgown so that the hem rested just over her knees. Normally this would have embarrassed Belle beyond all reason, but she was now in far too much pain to care. Feeling a trickle of sweat rolling down her brow, she looked up at Adam for silent guidance. His face was so loving and gentle that she believed him when the blood flowing through his hand traced the words upon her skin: _You are safe_. His eyes were charged with such energy that she could feel it emanating down on her and into her through every pore. She had always known it, but this was the first time she could actually see the words painting themselves across the canvas of her mind: _This is the man that I truly love. His love is mine. We are one. We each have our own value. Equal and opposite. But only together are we complete._

"Belle, on the count of three, I want you to push," Mrs. Potts gingerly ordered. "One, two, three . . ."

Belle pushed and let out a greater scream than the one she had earlier. Still, she continued to push. She was determined. This child was going to be born. She would not give up. No. Not with her other half there, his presence giving her the strength to move on.

Mrs. Potts ordered Belle to push again and again. Belle squeezed Adam's hand tighter with each effort, but he did not notice the pressure with which his wife was clutching his hand. No longer. He was entranced completely by Belle's face. She was no longer looking straight at him, but out into her own internal fire. Still, Adam saw her as more beautiful than she had ever been. Her hair was a mess, hot sweat was rolling off her forehead, and her face was contorted into an expression of utter pain. He knew that she did not even notice his fingers now combing through her hair, as he had always had a habit of doing. Even so, he saw past all that. He saw the colours of her soul, just as she had seen in him. Their prism reflected a wondrous dance of light through her eyes- a dance that revealed her true brilliance, strength, and passion. What Adam had thought long ago was now being verified through Belle's eyes: _Hers is a spirit to be admired above all others I have ever known._

"Great job, Belle. You are doing great! I can see an 'ead coming!" Mrs. Potts exclaimed with sincere excitement. "Okay, Dearie, give me another push. One, two, three . . ."

This continued for nearly an hour. Adam continued to hold Belle's hand, Mrs. Potts continued to guide Belle, and Belle continued to push. Finally, a new cry filled the room- a cry that did not belong to Belle, but to someone much smaller. All persons in the room thought it sounded like wonderful music.

"Congratulations, you two!" Mrs. Potts exclaimed, looking up at Belle and Adam. "You 'ave a beautiful baby girl."

Mrs. Potts took the baby, whom she had caught in a towel which she had spread out before Belle, and put her in the tub of warm water to clean her up. Adam covered Belle back up and bent down to kiss her forehead. Belle smiled weakly at her husband. She was glad it was all over. She felt as thought the life had all been taken out of her.

"Would you like to hold her, Master?" Fifi said, offering the swaddled baby to her father.

"Yes, but Belle should hold her first," he replied, again fiddling with his wife's hair.

Belle smiled again at Adam, but much stronger- much broader- now. And he smiled back at her, with even more warmth than before. And Belle could feel all the life coming back into her as the maid placed her newborn daughter in her arms.

The child was beautiful, though she slightly resembled a little monkey. Belle giggled at the thought. She couldn't believe it. She had made this child. No. _They _had made this child. She and Adam. Together. This new little life- this new little light- was a labour of their shared love. Belle was a clam, Adam was her sea (her world!). This newborn child was their pearl. She had been formed by their love, and now she would share in it. Oh, what a blessing to be human! Adam realized now that his wife truly was more beautiful than she had ever been- now as she held their child in her arms. Body and soul.

Adam's heart leapt with pride and excitement as Belle passed the child to him without reluctance. She did not want to let go of her so soon, but she realized that she wasn't- not really. Adam's arms belonged to her as well, just as hers belonged to him.

Belle looked on her husband in utter awe as he held their child. His arms were so sweet, so endearing. He looked on the child with complete admiration, and Belle knew that he must be thinking thoughts similar to her own.

Adam felt tears pushing up at the base of his eyes when the child in his arms twisted her mouth to form a yawn. Was this child really breathing? Had he really helped to bring forth this life? He admired the child's tiny little hands as he caressed them with his fingers. He had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. Could this child really be his? He decided that she must be when he noted the tuft of reddish gold hair atop her head. Her eyes, however, were not the colour of his- or Belles for that matter. They were instead a dark navy blue. Adam had heard that a lot of babies were born with that eye colour, but that it changes as the child gets older. Would she have eyes as blue as his, or would she have eyes as golden and mesmerizing as her mother's? He would have to wait to find out.

Adam looked back down at his beautiful wife and came to a sudden realization. No. This child was not his. This child was not Belle's. This child belonged to them both, along with God above. And as Adam looked down on the product of the love he had shared with Belle, he made a silent promise. He promised the child that he would be a much better father for her than his own father had been towards him. He would be there to protect her and love her with even more fervor than that for which he had longed as a child.


	8. Chapter 8: Adventures in Babysitting

Hey, everyone. Sorry I have not submitted another chapter in a while. I have been very busy. Please R&R because I have not had any reviews yet. Thanks for reading, though- as always! :)

Chapter 8: Adventures in Babysitting

"Open up Adele," Belle cooed as she waved a spoonful of porridge before the eight month- old infant's mouth. "Open up. The bear wants to go in the cave."

The child's bright blue eyes shifted back and forth along with the flitting silver object, but her mouth did not open.

"Come on, Adele. Porridge is good for you. Besides, Daddy wants to take you outside- but he'll only do so if you finish your breakfast."

Immediately, the child's mouth popped open. Belle allowed her to take in the food from the edge of the spoon. Little Adele smiled brightly as she moved the porridge around in her mouth. It felt good and warm- it didn't taste bad either.

"Now that's a little girl who wants to play outside!" Belle giggled warmly.

She raised another spoonful to the lips of the baby, who took in its contents greedily.

"Good morning to my two favourite people in the whole wide world!" a melodic yet masculine voice rang.

Belle beamed, feeling her heart dancing within her chest as it did every time she heard that voice. She felt a shimmering glow shower over her body as she felt Adam's lips pressing gently into the top of her head and each of his dear hands clasping her at the shoulders.

"Well, good morning, Dear," Belle replied, directing her words to the man behind her. "What have you been up to this morning?"

"Just a few land grants. Is my little darling ready to go outside?"

"She will be once she finishes her breakfast."

"Oh, I see," Adam said with mock seriousness, placing his hands on his hips. "Well you better finish every bite or you will have to stay in until after lunch."

Adele pouted her bottom lip and crossed her chubby little arms across her tiny chest- an action that made both of her parents laugh out loud.

"Belle," Adam began as his wife fed the child another spoonful of porridge. "Do you know what day tomorrow is?"

"Of course," Belle replied. "How could I ever forget your birthday?"

Belle offered the child yet another spoonful of food.

"That's right, Adele," Belle continued. "Your daddy is going to be the birthday boy tomorrow. He's going to be twenty-four. We're going to have a great party for-"

"Belle," Adam interrupted as he crouched down beside her. "Tomorrow is our anniversary."

"I know," Belle replied. "It's just that I want to celebrate your birthday."

"Belle, a single look at you provides my heart with more celebration than I can ever hope to handle. And I don't ever need a birthday present again- I have you."

Belle smiled at him as Adele took her last bite of porridge.

"Well maybe tomorrow is not our real anniversary. Every time I hear your voice, I fall in love with you all over again," Belle replied.

"You always have a good comeback," Adam chuckled.

"You bet I do," Belle teased.

The husband and wife looked over at their child as she gulped down her last bite of porridge. She was a precious beacon of light ignited by all for which they had ever hoped. Adam shared a look of pride with his wife.

"Belle-"

"Yes, Dear?"

"You look exhausted."

It was true. Despite the bright spark of motherly love in her eyes, the skin surrounding them appeared quite weary from months of sleep deprivation.

"I am a little tired," she finally admitted. "But I am all right."

"Yes, I know," Adam said. "You are so selfless that caring for your daughter gives you enough energy to keep going. I know you are all right. But you deserve to be more than just all right. Why don't we spend tomorrow together- just the two of us. We can do anything you want. I think that would be a grand way to celebrate the memory of the day you brought me to life."

"Actually," Belle replied as she wiped the corner of Adele's mouth with a cloth, "a picnic by the river would be really great. And I'd love to have some time alone with you, but what about Adele?"

"Well, since your father's been working on that new invention of his, I think it would be best to leave her with one of the servants for the day."

Belle looked at her tiny daughter. The child had not yet spent a single moment without one of her parents nearby. Was she ready? Would Belle be able to relax without her baby nearby to remind her that she was well?

"I don't know, Adam," Belle began.

"Oh, don't worry, Belle," Adam assured her. "The servants will take good care of her. Who do you think took care of me after my father left? Sure, they spoiled me a little too much- well, maybe more than _a little_ too much- but that was only because they were trying to make up for the fact that my parents weren't around. Even so, this is different. It's only for one day. We will be back tomorrow night to tuck her into bed. I think Adele would appreciate it if her mother had a day of rest."

Belle thought for a moment. A part of her did not want to part from her baby, while another part of her wanted desperately to have private time with her child's father- a luxury that had not been afforded to her since Adele's birth. And he- he deserved to have time with her as well. Yes. Adam had more than given his fair share in caring for his daughter. He had helped so much that, many times, Belle doubted she had the ability to mother a child alone. Oh how she loved watching him hold the child. The gentle reverence that shown upon his face as he counted his child's fingers and toes was remarkable, and it never failed to fill Belle with splendour.

"All right, Adam," Belle said as she climbed through the window her thoughts had opened. "I would love to spend the day with you."

"Oh boy!" Adam said as though she had agreed to have dinner with him for the first time. "I look forward to it."

He rose slightly and kissed his wife before standing up all the way, as though the warmth running through her cheek allowed him the energy necessary to do so.

"But for now," he continued as he pulled his groping infant from her chair, "I have a date with another gorgeous mademoiselle."

"Guess who," a male voice chortled when Fifi felt a pair of hands masking themselves over her eyes.

"Oh, Lumeire!" she cried now as the hands were removed from her face and their wielder revealed himself before the chair in which she was sitting. "You gave me such a fright!"

Lumeire laughed, pleased with the nervousness he caused her.

"Well if that gave you a fright, how about this?" he chuckled, climbing onto the chair with Fifi and leaning his face into the curve of her neck as he kneaded it with his teeth.

"Lumeire, stop it!" Fifi gasped, struggling to pry his face from her flesh. "We can't do this with the child here!"

Lumeire turned his head to see Adele sitting on the floor, amidst a myriad of toys. Oh, that's right! Fifi had insisted on watching after the little princess.

"Cherie," Lumeire teased as he turned back to his paramour. "Why don't you take it easy on yourself? We are young! Let Mrs. Potts or Madame de la Grande Bouche watch after the child!"

"No," Fifi snapped, craning her head around Lumeire so that she could see what Adele was doing. "I want to know what to expect when our child arrives."

"Hold on!" Lumeire replied jokingly. "I said we are young, but you are thirty-eight years-old- much too old to bear a child. Besides, you know how I feel about marriage."

"Well, one does not have to be married in order to have a child," Fifi retorted.

"True, true," Lumeire replied. "But why would one really want to have a child? I hear it really cuts into time for romance, if you know what I mean."

As he uttered the last words, he leaned in in an attempt to kiss Fifi, but she shirked him.

"Maybe it's not so much a want, Lumeire," Fifi said.

Lumeire chuckled again.

"What is this all about, Cherie?" he asked. "Why the sudden fantasy of children?"

Fifi stared into him with a serious smirk upon her lips.

"Lumeire, the idea of having children in our life shall soon be quite the opposite of fantasy," she said.

Lumeire finally understood. He gave her a questioning look, to which she simply nodded.

That's when his questioning look became a look of intermingled shock and dread.

"Oh no."

"Open up, Belle," Adam pleaded jokingly.

He was sitting beneath a tree on the bank of the river, waving a strawberry over the face of the woman who was resting her head upon his thigh. Belle released a muffled giggle, teasing her husband with her eyes.

"I say, Woman," Adam chuckled, "You are even more stubborn than my little girl."

Belle giggled again without opening her mouth.

"Hmmm," Adam chuckled. "Maybe you'll open your mouth if I offer something more delicious."

Belle closed her eyes as Adam gently lifted her head and leaned his own downward. He clutched her and he could feel her lips twisting excitedly beneath his.

"Mmmmm. Delicious," Belle gasped once he had released her.

"You're telling me," he chuckled. "Nom nom nom . . ."

Adam pulled Belle onto his lap. She giggled violently and, this time, there was no holding it in as he gently tickled the side of her neck with his teeth.

"Adam, STOP IT! THAT TICKLES!" she cried through her laughter. "CUT IT OUT!"

"Or what?" Adam teased.

Still laughing madly, she twisted her torso around so she could push at Adam's shoulder. He easily fell sideways, as though on purpose, and laughed out loud as Belle lay over him.

"Or I'm- going to- have to- do something- to- you," she said choppily as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Oh, really? Like what?" Adam said with a boyish grin stretching across his countenance.

"Like this," Belle replied, looking passionately into him before they both closed their eyes, allowing themselves to be surrounded by the warmth of the dewy late morning air.

She pressed her lips into his and tried to read his desires from their movements. It had been so long. Would she be able to please him again? From the sound of his groans as she kissed him, she knew there would be no struggle in doing so.

As she continued to kiss him, he lifted his hands to gently knead her shoulders. She suddenly felt her heart explode. Oh how it felt so good for him to be touching her like this! As he caressed her, she easily shifted her chest so she could reach in her hands. One by one, she unbuttoned all of the buttons on Adam's shirt. She released her lips from his and, as they gazed longingly into each other, he embraced her in one arm and. As he twirled her hair wantonly between his fingers, she mapped his chest with her hands. She noted how wonderful and warm was the sensation of his bare flesh beneath her palms. She paused a moment to feel the rhythm his heart was playing. She smiled, knowing she was making quite an effect on him- it was as though the fate of his soul had been entrusted in her. Feeling her own core rumbling with a great hunger, she pressed her lips into his neck and traced a line of kisses all the way down the tight mass of vitality that was his abdomen. Adam's low involuntary groans amounted to far more than a bite of appeasement for Belle, however their flavour kept her craving for more.

And then, with neither saying a word, Belle found herself following the angles that crept beneath Adam's clothing.

"Stop squirming. Stop squirming. There, that's a good baby."

Fifi was bathing Adele in a small wash-basin. She was amazed at just how entertaining a tub of water and soap could be to a small child. She feared she would pull off one of the child's limbs because, instead of sitting still and allowing Fifi to easily clean her, the child continued in her attempts to explore what lie beneath the surface of the bathwater. Presently, Fifi was gently rubbing soap into the child's tender scalp.

Adele made a gurgling noise as she patted on the surface of the water. Fifi giggled. Although she was well aware that caring for Adele was no easy task, she could not deny the child's cuteness.

"Yes, the water is fun, isn't it?" Fifi cooed. "And you are precious. Yes you are. Yes you- ahh!"

The child squealed in delight at what she had done. Fifi used the corner of her apron to wipe herself free from the suds that had just been splashed in her face.

"Fifi, could you use some help?"

Fifi looked up to see Lumeire standing on the other side of the washbasin. His face did not carry its normal grin, though she could see that he was not angry or even sad. No. His face carried an expression of pure compassion. Fifi was touched. Still, she was far too upset with him to grant him a smile of her own. She only sighed, secretly glad to have him there.

"Yes," she finally replied, "You can cover her eyes while I rinse her hair."

Lumeire obeyed, placing his hand over the eyes of the squirming child as he helped Fifi hold her still.

"Fifi-" he began.

"Not now, Lumeire," she interrupted as she slowly poured a cup full of water over the baby's head. "Now go lay out a towel on the bench. I am going to dry her off."

After the child had been dried, Fifi began to clothe her.

"Fifi, I feel that we need to talk," Lumeire said as he watched her slip a light pinafore over the baby's head.

"Not now, Lumeire," she replied without looking up at him.

"Why not now?" he asked as he knelt down beside her and placed his arm around her.

Lumeire was not the type of man to be anxious, but he was now as anxious as he had ever been in his entire life. He had to talk to her- let her know how he really felt.

"Because," she said, escaping his embrace as she stood and lifted the child from the bench. "Because my head hurts right now and you are not helping."

"But, Fifi, I want to help," he pleaded as he stood up as well.

"Well then," she said, walking past him and to the washroom door, "you can help me while being quiet."

"Why can't we stay here forever, Belle? Just the two of us."

Adam had broken the silence that surrounded himself and his wife as they sat together beneath the tree. Yes. He had broken the silence, but not the serenity. Belle knew better as she sensed, without seeing, the safety of his arms as they surrounded her, and the thundering of his bare chest upon which she rested her head. Everything was as it should be- that is what his breath seemed to say as it gently rustled through her love-tousled hair.

"Why can't we stay here forever?" is what he had asked.

"Who says we can't?" Belle chanted to her husband, friend, and eternal lover.

Adam did not have to ask what she meant. He only had to nudge her face so that he could read the glow of her eyes. So amazing a gift it was to bear witness to the luminosity of such bright embers! He felt his entire being tremor with exuberant pride, knowing that they glowed only so brightly for him.

In his excitement, he found himself forcing his mouth violently against hers- an action to which she more than willingly surrendered. And again, they both found themselves taken within the open beauty of their own sacred place.

"Fifi," Lumeire whispered. "Fifi, can we talk now?"

"Shh," she whispered back. "In a minute. She has finally fallen asleep."

Lumeire joined her at the side of Adele's crib and looked down at the sweet sleeping face of the child within.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Fifi asked dreamily.

"Yes," Lumeire replied with complete honesty. "Yes, she is."

The two servants looked up at each other, finally again sharing in a smile. Lumeire then led Fifi out of the dark room and quietly closed the great doors behind them.

"Fifi," Lumeire began once they were out in the hall, "Would now be a good time to talk?"

"I think so," she replied. "What is it?"

"Well," he said, starting out nervously, "I just want to apologize for how I reacted earlier- to the idea of you being with child, I mean. It's just that- It's just that I've been chasing around women my whole life. I will not lie to you about that. I mean, you know about my previous relationships with other women, including Angelique- Oh, I'm not very good at this."

Before Fifi could utter a single word of reply, Lumeire had whipped out a small wooden box. She looked up at him, eyes ablaze with bewilderment, as she took the box from his hand. Her eyes were set ablaze with joyous surprise as she finally opened it and looked at what was inside.

"Oh, Lumeire! It's beautiful!" she cried for, inside the box, she had found a golden band with a dazzling white diamond at its center.

Lumeire took the piece of jewelry out from the box and slipped it easily onto Fifi's ring finger. She admired it, still with a quite startled gaze.

"Oh, Lumeire! I don't know what to say!"

"Well," Lumeire chuckled, "you can start with yes or no."

"Oh, of course. Yes I-"

Suddenly she stopped. Her expression fell and dimmed. Yes, she had always wished for this to happen; but this was still Lumeire. Could he really be offering her his hand in marriage? For better or worse? Until death doth he part?

"Lumeire?" she began, afraid of the answer to the question she was to ask.

"Yes, Cherie?"

Fifi gulped. This may be the only time she would receive such an offer. Could she really afford to destroy it with such doubts.

"You're not- you're not just doing this because- because I am carrying your child, are you?"

A silence passed after she had uttered her question. Oh no! She was going to die an old maid with a fatherless child!

Suddenly, Fifi looked up. She could feel his hand on her shoulder. That could only mean-

"No, my dear," Lumeire finally replied. "Do you think that I just picked up that ring, today?"

"No," she said, "But I thought you-"

"I know," he said. "I know how I've told you that I do not feel comfortable with the idea of marriage. The truth is, I bought that ring nearly two years ago- after the enchantment had been lifted. I bought it because I was so happy that we were finally human again- you and I. But, on the way back to the castle, a terrible idea hit me. I became worried that I had only bought the ring on a whim. I was scared that something would soon happen between us. I guess, what really happened is, I turned chicken."

"Well, what if you're just giving me the ring on a whim now?" Fifi asked. "What if you are just doing it because you feel it's the right thing to do?"

"No darling," he replied, shaking his head. "It is not so. You see, I could have sold that ring at any time, but I just couldn't do it. I guess I was just saving it for the right time. You see, Fifi, you are the first woman with whom I have had a truly intimate relationship. Yes, I have been in the sleeping quarters of many women but, with you, it is different. I can actually talk to you. I think of you as not only a lover, but a friend. I think that the reason I feel so comfortable with you is that you alone have the ability to see past all my outward charm. You know my flaws and are not afraid to tell me when I am doing wrong. Most women become limp with one wink from me, but you have loved me for different reasons."

"Especially for the way you make me laugh," Fifi chuckled.

"There, you see," Lumeire continued. "And now you are with my child. I think it is a sign from the heavens. It had to be thrown right in my face because I have been far too ignorant to see it myself: I belong with you."

Fifi laughed through a countenance reddened by tears of joy and wonder.

"What do you say, Cherie?" Lumeire finished. "Will you continue to save me from my wicked, wicked ways?"

Fifi smiled up at him, still through those tears of joy. She had had such feelings for him for such a long time. And now all that she had felt for him was finally making sense as her heart reached its zenith.

"Of course, my Lumeire. Oh, of course!"

With that, she grabbed him and marked him with a great big kiss.

"I bet I could beat you to the door." Adam teased as he walked, hand-in-hand with his wife, up the cobblestone walkway.

Belle giggled.

"I bet you could," she replied. "I bet you could do a lot of things if you felt half as energized as I do right now."

Adam stopped and turned to gaze into the moonlight-powdered face of his wife. He combed through her hair with his fingers. Belle grasped his hand and pressed it into her cheek as it passed. She rolled her head and granted his palm a tender kiss as his fingers softly scratched her beneath the ear.

"Belle," Adam began. "Every moment with you fills me with infinite energy. You are the blood that runs through my veins, the air that fills my lungs- the voice that tells me what I should do. Yes, Belle, today was a wonderful day. I pray that you truly enjoyed it."

"Oh yes, Adam, I enjoyed it very much!"

"Good. I'm glad," he said with a smile. "And that fact alone fills me with so much energy that I-"

He looked around for a moment before looking back at Belle.

"I think I will climb up that tree and bring you back a blossom."

Belle looked in the direction that Adam was pointing. There, in the glow of the moonlight, stood a grand apple tree full of blossoms.

"Oh, Adam," she chuckled. "You don't have to-"

But he was already gone. The next thing Belle knew he was running to the tree with childlike enthusiasm upon his sleeve.

Belle chased after him, crying out, "Wait, Adam! Don't hurt yourself!"

Belle stood about five feet from the base of the tree and watched as Adam, acting as though he had not heard her (and maybe he hadn't), pounced like a lion and grasped a branch within his hands. He effortlessly pulled himself up, landing with his stomach on the branch. He carefully stood up and pulled a delicate white blossom from an overhanging branch. He brandished it for Belle's approval as he steadied himself by resting the other hand against the trunk of the tree.

Belle smiled up at him, although she was still worried.

"That's nice, Adam," she called. "But please come down from there."

"As you wish," he replied as he made to dismount the limb.

But as he crouched down, he lost his footing and ended up falling backwards, from where he had been standing, to the ground.

"Adam!" Belle cried, running over to where his body lie, twisted from a moment's worth of fighting back.

Belle sighed with relief as she watched Adam's eyes slowly show themselves open.

"Oh, Adam!" she said, crouching down beside him. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," he replied, rubbing his head with one hand as he sat up.

Belle smirked at him, astonished, as he held out his other hand to reveal the apple blossom still held between his thumb and one of his fingers. When she did not take it from him, he decided to smooth back her hair and stick the blossom above her ear. They exchanged good-humoured grins and, as Belle chuckled, she pulled a leaf from Adam's hair.

They helped each other off the ground. They stood for a moment, just staring into each other's starlit eyes, before Adam lifted Belle off her feet. Her legs and skirts swung upwards, clipping dazzlingly through the night air, as her face was catapulted forcefully into his. They exchanged all of their life with one another- there, beneath the white flash of pale apple blossoms upon a time-darkened backdrop.

"I suppose I lied to you when I said we would be back in time to tuck in Adele," Adam said without apology as he carried Belle to the walkway, back through the pestering of the liquid silver grass.

"It's just one night," Belle replied.

They chuckled in unison.

And though Belle was at home in his arms, he continued to carry her back to the warmth of the castle.


	9. Chapter 9: Parenthood

Chapter 9: Parenthood

"Hey, Chip!"

The blonde-haired kitchen boy turned his head to the familiar voice of his master's eldest daughter, a tip-toeing ginger-haired toddler.

"Oh hey, Adele," Chip replied warmly as he turned his attention back to the plate he was washing. "What brings you into the kitchen today?"

"I wanna' help," the child said.

Chip looked back down at her with an astonished grin on his face.

"You wanna' help? With what?"

"You wash and I dry!" the little princess replied as though it were the most obvious thing on earth.

Chip chuckled as he placed the plate he had been washing upon the counter and pulled another one from the soapy water.

"I appreciate the offer, Little Miss," he replied without looking back, "but I'm afraid your little hands might not be able to hold onto these plates and dry them at the same time. I don't think your father would be very happy to see his grandmother's dishes broken, do you?"

Although Chip still did not turn to look at her, Adele pouted in defiance. She stamped her foot, wrinkled her face, and crossed her tiny arms. She stared up at Chip, just waiting for him to turn around to see her. Still, he just kept on washing. After what must have seemed like hours to Adele (although a minute had not yet passed), she decided to make the next move. She pulled a chair that sat in the corner and pushed it against the end of the counter. Before steadily-working Chip noticed what was going on, Adele had climbed upon the counter and was now looking straight in his face.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed with a start of surprise.

"Please, let me help!" Adele shouted as she attempted to pry the plate from Chip's hands.

"No!" Chip retorted, yanking it back. "Do you want to get me into trouble?"

"No, I just wanna' help. And if you do not let me help, I'm going to scream."

Chip's next question would have asked why she was so determined to do something so boring as dry the dishes but, now, as he looked down at the child's face, he could not help but admire her persistence. She appeared to be very serious, indeed.

Chip tried to laugh off his frustration, but ended up sighing after all.

"All right," Chip said, handing the plate to the child. "You can dry, but be very careful."

"Okay."

Adele snatched up the towel that lay beside her on the counter and began haphazardly swiping at the plate with it. Chip watched her for a few moments. He thought the sight of her trying so hard must be the most adorable thing ever, but it would be cruel to let her go on without so much as a nudge in the right direction.

"Hold on," he said, pulling the plate from her fingers with more ease than he thought he'd meet. "Try doing this."

Chip demonstrated his method of drying as he rounded the plate with the towel.

"Now you try."

He handed the plate back to Adele who began to mimic what he had just done. It was somewhat difficult for her, since the plate was almost as large as her, but she was doing just as he had done. Chip smiled.

"Very good," he said.

Adele smiled brightly. She was proud, indeed. Too bad her moment of joy wouldn't last for long for, as she was distracted by her triumph, the plate slipped from her tiny little fingers. Before Chip could catch it, the plate fell to the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Oh no!" Adele exclaimed.

With the brief chop of those two words, Chip could already tell that the child was on the brink of tears.

"It's alright, it's alright," he tried to assure her, though his heart thudded heavily against his chest. "I'll- um- I'll clean it up!"

He leapt over the shattered china and ambled over to the wall where the broom hung. He returned quickly with it and began to sweep the mess up into a low pile. It was going to be okay. No one was going to see-

"What's going on in here? I heard something shatter."

"M-M-Master!" Chip stammered. "I'm so sorry- she- I- I broke it, Sir."

Adam, who had peeked his head through the door with concern suddenly appeared perplexed. That's when he noticed the pieces of what had once been a plate in a heap upon the floor, and his daughter sitting up on the counter.

"Adele, did you drop that plate?" he asked.

"Yes, Father," Adele replied without hesitation, although sounding ashamed.

"Then why are you allowing for him to take the blame?"

"Wait, Master, It's-" Chip tried to speak, but Adam held his hand up to signal that he should not.

Adam walked into the kitchen and lifted Adele off the counter. He did not appear angry, though his voice was stern. In fact, he appeared quite calm as he looked straight into his daughter's eyes- so frighteningly like his!

"What do we say, Adele?"

The child turned her face away from her father's and looked across to Chip. He had seen so tall before but, now that she was looking at him from within the high arms of her father, he seemed to be on level with her.

"I'm sorry, Chip," Adele said.

"That's quite alright," Chip replied with a wink.

Adele giggled back.

"Alright, Adele," Adam said with a smile in his voice. "That was very nice. Let's go outside."

Adam walked away, holding his daughter. Chip stood there watching, resting against the upright broom as they neared the door.

"Wait," he finally decided to say, just before Adam pushed the door open.

Adam turned to look back at him, his face still quite calm.

"I'm sorry."

"About what?" Adam replied.

"About the plate," Chip explained.

"That's alright, Chip. It was just an old plate. It's not like it can talk or has feelings."

Chip did not have to ask what his master meant by the wink he left as he disappeared through the door. Chip had replied with a smirk of his own as he started back to work.

Adam and Belle took their three daughters- Adele, Gigi, and Bridgette- on a stroll through the crisp fall morning. Adele walked proudly, holding her father's hand. Bridgette, who had just passed her first year, was followed closely by her mother's guiding hand. Gigi, who had just turned two, skipped merrily before them all. In all, there were six for, within Belle's swollen womb, was another child.

Suddenly, Belle stopped. She had halted so fast that she thought she would fall backwards. At least that would have been better than falling over on the child who had just ran up to her.

"Here, Mother! I got you a flower," Gigi announced proudly as she presented Belle with a freshly-picked primrose.

"Oh, thank-you, Gigi," Belle replied as she gently lifted the blossom from the child's tiny fingers. "It's beautiful, just like you."

"Smell it, Mother. It smells so good."

Belle looked down at the precious, rosy-cheeked face of her second daughter. The colour of her eyes reflected the golden joy that she always seemed to carry. Even before she had learned to speak, she had hardly cried. She hardly slept either. She always seemed to be wide awake- watching, enjoying, taking everything in- with those golden hazel eyes. And everything the child said or did seemed to make her parents smile or laugh. Even when she did wrong, she would next do or say something that forced her parents to suppress a grin. Sometimes even Belle and Adam had to wonder what was so funny, or if anything was funny at all. Maybe they had simply begun laughing from habit.

Belle raised the flower to hold it beneath her nose. It did not have much of a smell, but the smell it did have was quite nice.

"No, Mother!" Gigi cried. "You have to really smell it."

"I am," Belle replied. "It smells good."

"You didn't really smell it though."

"I'll smell it," Adam said, holding his free hand out for the flower in Belle's hand.

Once he had the flower in hand, Adam pressed his nose directly into its center. He deliberately took a loud whiff, which made Adele, Gigi, Bridgette, and Belle laugh out loud.

"Hmm . . . Smells good to me!" Adam said brightly as he lowered the blossom from his face.

They all shared another laugh, for the end of Adam's nose was now covered in pollen. He joined in the laughter because he could feel it. He could also feel . . .

"ACHOOO!" he sneezed.

His two younger daughters started laughing again. Bridgette, whose laugh was mostly a squeal, laughed the loudest.

"God bless you," Belle and Adele said in unison.

"Thank-you," Adam chuckled.

"You're welcome."

"Mother, how did the baby get in tummy?" Adele asked when the family had begun walking back to the castle.

Everyone froze for a moment. Adam and Belle stared at each other in shock. They knew this day would come, but they could not possibly explain it all now. The two older little girls stared up at their parents with curious, pleading eyes. Bridgette did not seem to be paying attention, as she was far too busy fiddling with a scurrying black beetle. What were they going to tell them? They could not dare tell the truth- not now! They both knew that it would be right to answer truthfully in most situations, but this was a grand exception.

"We'll tell you when you're older," is all that Belle could say.

"Aww, but we wanna know now!" Gigi wept.

"Yes!" Adele pleaded, tugging at her father's coat. "Please, Father! Tell us!"

Belle pressed her face into one of her palms, thinking of how she was going to reply. Adam searched about with his eyes. Neither really wanted to tell, but they could not simply tell the girls to shut up. Neither Adam or Belle wanted to discourage their children from asking questions- ever! Adam knew, firsthand, what such discouragement felt like.

Adam thought as he searched about for some sort of inspiration. Then he saw it. He crouched down and picked, from the ground, a mature dandelion.

"Your mother had every one of you because you were all deeply wanted," Adam began.

Belle removed her hand from her face to see her husband crouched on the ground, brandishing a dandelion before Adele and Gigi's faces. Oh no! Where was he going with this? Since she had thought of no alternative she continued watching him intently, wondering what he was going to say next.

"We both wanted all of you," Adam continued, "just as we want this new baby that your mother is now carrying."

"But how did it get in there?" Adele piped.

"I'm getting to that," Adam replied, though still looking at the dandelion for inspiration.

While looking into the precious eyes of his tiny daughters, he realized what he was going to say.

"The baby got in your mother's tummy because we wished for it. We wanted you three girls to have another sibling, so we took a dandelion much like this one, and wished for another child."

Adam paused, astounded by the awed expression in the girls' eyes.

"Then, we blew onto it, like this."

Adam demonstrated by blowing gently upon the dandelion. Adele and Gigi watched excitedly as the seeds flew, on gossamer fluff, through the air. Bridgette must have noticed what was going on because she was now giggling, squealing with delight as she attempted to grab every single one.

Adam grinned as he continued, "The seeds were sent up to the heavens- every single one, a wish- so that God and all his angels would be able to find one. And when they did, they answered our prayer. They placed the child within your mother's tummy."

"But why does the baby have to be in Mother's tummy if it has to come out, anyway?" Adele demanded.

Belle chuckled, for her daughter was amazingly bright. Adam looked up at Belle with a smile that became reverence as he spoke.

"Because," Adam said to his daughters while still looking at his wife, "A new baby is very fragile. They cannot go out in the sun like you girls. They aren't strong enough. But if the baby were to stay out of the sun, they would be too cold. It is warm inside your mother's tummy. It is the safest place in the world. Inside your mother's tummy, all three of you girls, just as this new baby is now, were protected from the burn of the sun."

Adam and Belle shared in each other's admiration for a moment, a moment that lasted until Adele piped another question.

"So, if I wish for a baby and blow on a dandelion, I could have a baby too?"

Adam could not hold in his laughter. How serious this child was! He focused his attention back on his eldest daughter as he calmed his laughter.

"No," he said. "Not until you are older- MUCH older! You see, in order to have a child, you must find someone you love more than anyone else- save God above. Then you have to marry that person. Then, and only then, can you have a baby."

"Oh," Adele said, still confused.

"Well," Adam said, standing up and taking Adele's hand back into his, "let's head back home. I'm sure the servants have lunch ready for us."

And as they finally made their way back to the castle, Adam and Belle shared a look while their daughters were not watching. They each knew what the other was thinking.

Although what Adam had told his daughters was technically a lie, it was far closer to the truth than it had at first seemed.


End file.
